Falling Forward
by damnitjane
Summary: When the charismatic and womanizing Walter Mashburn returns to Lisbon's life, he causes more than just trouble with the murder of a State Senator he is accused. He discovers that he might just want to have Lisbon all to himself. The problem? She's already claimed. By Jane. A collaboration with Brooklyn79.
1. Falling Stars

FALLING STARS

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The music was thumping loudly from the speakers across the room as Teresa Lisbon made her way across the marble floor in her black pumps. The emerald silk dress she wore shined in the lights of the grand room, her alabaster skin and brown hair filling out the outfit as she came to a stop in front of a group of senators speaking to her date for the evening.

"Have you met my wonderful girlfriend, Teresa?" Jane asked the suit-clad men, bringing his hand to the small of her back. "Teresa, this is senator Leeds, and senator Watts."

Lisbon stretched a hand out and shook theirs, nodding her head as she did so. She noticed that each of them wiped their hands on their expensive pants after shaking her hand, as if she had cooties. Goddamn, she hated rich people. They always tended to react this way. She noticed each had wedding bands on, and felt a change of topic might warm their cold pockets. This was a benefit for the state, after all. The capital building was being used for tonight's benefit, and she just hoped they would drum enough money to fund the failing education system in Austin.

"Where are the ladies you came with?" Lisbon asked, searching the crowd for anyone wearing a fur coat. "I'd like to say hello."

"Oh, they are mingling," said the one named Leeds. "I lose track of her so easily."

"Well, I am sure she'll turn up soon," Lisbon told him irritably. "You need a leash on-"

"Well, Senators," Jane interrupted, squeezing Lisbon's waist with his fingers. "I'll let you get back to running our state."

Jane nodded at the two men as they walked away from them. He leaned toward Lisbon and whispered to her under his breath.

"You can turn it down a little and act like you're happy to be here, Teresa. Abbott said it was important to get to know these people. If we ever need something in our favor, they'd be more obliged," he told her, guiding her toward the table of finger-foods that cost more than her dress had.

"I hate this crap," she told him, grabbing champagne from a passing tray held by a waiter. "Kissing ass to people who don't give a damn about anything but power and money."

She took a hefty sip from the fluted glass and sighed. Jane shook his head and smirked at her. Leaning in so that his lips were close to her ear, he softly gave her incentive to behave.

"Teresa, if you're good, I promise to make it up to you tonight, okay?"

"Don't hold back," she replied, a smile unfurling across her features. "Just don't rip the dress. It cost more than my car."

"I promise that the dress won't be an issue for me," he responded wickedly. "Now, please play nice. It's for the kids, you know."

"Besides the ass-kissing, you mean."

"Yeah."

Jane kissed her forehead and drifted into the crowd of people. Lisbon sighed, placed her half-empty glass on the table, and walked toward Cho and Abbott, who were engaged in what looked like an awkward conversation with some high-ranking officials at the capital.

"Have you looked in the bathroom?" Abbott was saying, tilting his head toward the hallway that led to the lavatory. "How long as he been gone for?"

Lisbon didn't insert herself into the conversation, instead she chose to stand next to Cho and listen. Abbott was talking to a man whose name tag said KEATING. Lisbon watched as Keating shook his head.

"I looked. It's empty, far as I can tell," he replied. "His wife is beside herself."

"Cho, go search the bathroom again," Abbott told him. "If nothing is there, check upstairs in the offices."

Cho nodded and turned to disappear in the crowd. Abbott turned to Lisbon and looked around as if searching for Jane.

"He's mingling," she told him. "Who's missing?"

"Senator Poole," Abbott explained. "Nobody has seen him for a while, and he's due to give the speech in about," Abbott checked his watch, "ten minutes."

"Never a dull moment," Lisbon mused under her breath. "Anything I can do?"

"Not right now, Teresa. Get these people to open their wallets."

She nodded her head and was just about to go look for Jane when Cho came down the long flight of stairs in the center of the room and headed straight for Abbott. Cho, panting for breath, told Abbott that he had found a deceased man upstairs.

"He's been there a while," Cho informed him. "GSW to the chest."

"Don't let anyone leave," he instructed Cho. "Lisbon, go find Jane and meet me upstairs."

Abbott told the officials to stay where they were, turning and walking up the stairs slowly as to not alert anyone that something was potentially wrong. Lisbon waffled through the crowd of people until she saw Jane's neat blonde curls near the center of the huge room. She walked up to him and took him by the elbow, waiting until he finished speaking with the man he was engaged with to tell him what was going down.

"Body on the upper floor," she told him. "No rest for the wicked. Isn't that what you normally like to say?"

"A murder? Here?"

"Come on," she told him, guiding him toward the staircase.

They finally made it to the room where the body was after a few minutes. The room, used for offices and storage, was dimly lit by desk lamps, casting a sullen shadow around the room. In the middle, laying on an expensive Persian carpet, was Senator Poole. His body was twisted, his legs folding under him as if he collapsed backward. Around his body was a blood stain emanating from under his back. Clearly, as Lisbon saw it, Poole had been dead for a while.

Abbott looked up as they entered the room and shook his head. "This is going to be a PR nightmare. Just when we were getting over your whole De Jurio debacle."

Jane knelt down, careful not to get blood on his clothing, and examined the body. Reaching out his hand, he steadied himself in a straddle across the dead mans legs. The man looked clean of cuts or contusions on his skin, but in the dim light of the room, it was impossible to say for sure.

"Close range," Jane said, eying the wound in the chest with intensity. "It's someone who knew him, obviously."

Lisbon watched Jane work. Even after all these years of seeing him do his thing, she still got goose bumps from it. In the bedroom, he used this technique to tell him exactly what she wanted out of him. The reaction she gave as he probed and touched her told him he was doing something right. It was a useful tool of his, and she was never so glad that he had it. She loved watching the way he looked at every detail and was accurate just by seeing what was around him. He still fascinated her after all these years.

"Small caliber weapon judging from the amount of blood," Abbott added. "Should be more blood if it was a higher caliber."

"Yeah," Jane told Abbott, looking up at his boss and nodding. "He didn't die from the wound."

"How do you know? Small calibers can kill if it hits the right spot," Lisbon protested. "Artery..."

"Uh, but then why is there a gaping hole in his head from that over there?" Jane asked, pointing to an obviously heavy and bloody paperweight sitting underneath the desk on the right, against the wall.

Abbott looked from the bloody paperweight to the man on the floor and shook his head. In the dim room, he didn't see the head wound. The man was facing half in shadow, and it was a miracle Jane could even see it.

"It's like you don't even know you're doing it anymore," Lisbon commented with a smirk.

"You'll find he got hit first," Jane said, standing up and pointing to Poole's body, "and he fell here, and then the perp saw he was still alive and grabbed the gun, shooting him while he lie here. Paperweight got him on the floor."

Jane leaned over the body and raised an invisible paperweight over his head and mimicked a few whacks to Poole's head. Cho came in, took a look at Jane's raised hands and shrugged, turning to Abbott.

"The officials are keeping everyone from leaving," Cho filled Abbott in. "They're asking questions."

"This is giving me a headache," Abbott said, rubbing the back of his bald head. "Why do these things happen to me?"

As they were about to respond, there was a noise coming from the double oak doors on the left side of the room. When they had entered, the doors were closed and silent. As they stood there, they could see the knob nosily turn back and forth. Everyone backed up. None of them had their guns, as this was a social event, save for Cho, who pulled out his Glock and pointed it at the rattling doors.

"Hey! I want you to open the doors and come out of there, your hands better be up!" Cho said, intently focusing on the doors. "You have until three to come out or I am going to come get you."

"You brought your gun to an event like this?" Jane asked. "Really?"

"It's saving your ass right now," Cho replied, taking a step forward. "ONE!"

The sound continued.

"TWO!"

"You better come out with your hands up! There's nowhere to go!" Lisbon called out, placing her hands on her hips.

There was a second of silence before a familiar voice broke through.

"Teresa?" the voice asked, jiggling the handle harder. "Is that you?"

Lisbon's brows furrowed, and Jane sighed deeply. Abbott, who was watching the door, looked over at her and frowned.

"This person knows you?" he asked, startled.

Lisbon sighed and shook her head. "It's a long story, sir."

"Walter, get out here," she yelled at the door, watching as Cho lowered his weapon beside her. "What are you doing here?"

Lisbon was sure she saw Jane's eyes narrow infinitesimally. Once, he would have been glad to see and hear of Mashburn again. That was before Jane knew he was in love with Lisbon. Things were different now. Very different.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Walter Mashburn sat on one of the red velvet-covered chairs outside the room where the senator was murdered, his eyes drinking in Lisbon and her tight emerald dress. Lisbon looked at him for some kind of difference in his appearance, but she could find none. He still had short, straight black hair, deep colored skin and still held an arrogant _I'm so rich_ attitude. He was dressed in a black tuxedo, the napkin in his breast pocket a deep red. Lisbon noticed that he was also wearing an expensive watch, the diamond-plated face ticking in unison with the seconds of silence they had held for a while now.

"What were you doing in there, Walter?" Lisbon asked him again, brushing a strand of hair off her shoulders. "This is the third time you were present during a murder, or at least involved somehow in one."

"Teresa," he said, leaning forward, "I assure you that I just came up to talk to Poole about donating to the cause," he assured her. "I came up here, walked inside and he was already dead. I turn around and someone shoves me from behind into the room next to it and closes the door! I swear, Teresa."

"Hey, Walter," Jane interrupted as Lisbon was about to say something. "You don't just give your money away. What were you really doing up here? Don't lie to me, I have a BS detector, it's called Lisbon," he said, taking the empty chair next to Mashburn.

Mashburn was a little taken aback by Jane's clipped tone, no doubt remembering back to when Jane actually seemingly liked him. Mashburn's eyebrows furled and his teeth showed when he lifted a lip in half a grin.

"Patrick," Mashburn started. "There was a mutual favor involved. You know I do nothing unless something is given in return."

Mashburn's eyes slid to Lisbon and the lines at the corners of his eyes retracted. Jane cleared his throat and leaned in to Mashburn, so close he could smell the overpriced cologne wafting from his body. Lisbon stiffened a little and bit her bottom lip. She was watching something unfold she hadn't seen since Marcus Pike. It was a primal dislike.

"Lisbon," Jane said, looking straight at her now. "I think you should take him in."

"On what? So far all we have is him at the scene," she replied. Amusement was hidden in her voice.

"I think I can find something..."

"Don't be ridiculous, Jane," she told him. Turning back to Mashburn, she pointed to the small notepad she had in her hands that she borrowed from the desk inside the room. "Tell me what you were talking to him about, Walter."

She could see Walter trying to figure out what was different from his last visit with them both, but he seemed to be having trouble placing it. He sighed and shook his head.

"I came up here to offer Poole a deal," he told her, lifting his hand in the air, palm up. "I told him that if he gave me clearance to build my new summer home here, I would make a generous donation to his next campaign."

"Why would you feel the need to do that tonight of all nights and alone, for that matter?" Jane asked. "You could have done it at any time."

"I was here, anyway," Walter replied. "Besides, the land I want isn't exactly free and clear. It's forestry land."

"Tree killer, now, eh?" Jane accused. "Well, natural progression, one supposes."

"Hey, now! I'd be recycling the wood. Giving it new life."

"Did you talk to him at all?" Lisbon asked, taking the conversation back from Walter. "Did you see him?"

"I told you already, Teresa. I came in and he was lying on the floor. Someone pushed me through the double doors and locked me in."

"Well, you can come down to the FBI office and give us an official statement there," she told him. She closed the notepad and tapped her finger on it.

Lisbon's eyes slid to Jane for a brief second, and back to Walter, but that quick gaze was enough for Mashburn to click the pieces into place that he couldn't earlier. The smile dropped from his face and he did a double-take.

"You think I did this?" Mashburn pointed toward the door. "Me?"

Jane didn't reply. Instead he stared at Walter intensely. Lisbon on the other hand squeaked out something that could have been either a yes or no.

"Oh, man," Walter said. "I've been away a very long time..."

"Lisbon," Abbott interrupted the awkward silence that followed. "Ready to transport him?"

"Uh, yeah," Lisbon said. "He's definitely ready to go."


	2. Falling Past

**A/N: This chapter is brought to you by the lovely brooklyn79 here on FF! **

**FALLING PAST**

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

The drive back to the FBI headquarters had been a fairly quiet one. Jane had barely spoken a word all ride. He just sat looking out the SUV passenger window whilst twisting & fiddling with his wedding ring. Lisbon knew this was a clear sign that something was bothering him. She had seen him do this gesture many times over the years. She decided not to push him to open up, since becoming a couple he had become a lot better at communicating what was going on in his head and she knew he would do so in his own time.

Entering the bullpen, Jane advised he needed to make himself some tea before striding towards the kitchen. Lisbon stood watching him before walking sadly over to her desk. The bullpen was now a hive of activity, full of agents, all of Abbott's team were now back at office working still dressed up in party dresses and tuxedos from the fundraiser.

Lisbon sat at her desk wondering if she should go and check on Jane, but decided it was best to leave him be for now. Once they had finished here for the night she could talk to him more privately, hopefully, when she was lying in his arms in their bed at home. At that moment, she looked over and saw Cho leaving one of the interrogation rooms now heading towards her.

"Hey, Lisbon, I've just taken Mashburn's statement, but Abbott has asked that you and Jane interview him again before we release him. Abbott thinks if he is hiding anything, you may be able to get it out of him as you have both had dealings with Mashburn before, you have an established relationship…"

"I do not have a relationship with Walter Mashburn! Just because he was involved in a few cases at the CBI doesn't mean we have a relationship, okay?" Lisbon wasn't sure why she had reacted in such a defensive way, she knew Cho had never suspected her involvement with Mashburn but for some reason felt her need to defend herself.

Cho raised an eyebrow at her little outburst.

"Ok, but Abbott still wants you two to talk to him."

Before she could apologize, Cho had turned walking over to his own desk. She put her snappiness down to being overtired and one in the morning.

Ten minutes later, after Jane had finally finished drinking his tea, they entered the interrogation room, both taking a seat in the empty chairs opposite from where Walter was sitting.

"Am I free to go? Feels like I have sat here hours. My back is killing me, but hey, if anyone is offering a give me a massage, you won't hear me complaining…"

Walter hadn't taken his eyes of Lisbon from the moment she had entered the room, his eyes surveying her body from head to toe which also hadn't gone unnoticed by Jane. Under the glare of Walter Lisbon suddenly felt very underdressed, especially at her exposed cleavage in the silky gown, she suddenly felt very unprofessional for interviewing a potential suspect, but pushed away her feeling of awkwardness and replaced it with her professional FBI cop mask.

In a sharp, annoyed tone, Jane was the first to speak. "Not quite Walter. We need to go over your statement once again."

"But I have just given all the details to Agent Cho, what else could there be to go over!" Walter was clearly annoyed at what felt like being held against his will. Just as Lisbon was about to explain the reasons for the FBI keeping him there Jane abruptly cut across her.

"There is everything to go over. It's a serious murder case, life's not all about seducing women and throwing your money around, real life's hard Walter. Deal with it."

Lisbon noted the annoyed tone in Jane's voice. It was well hidden, but she had known Jane long enough to know something was definitely upsetting him. He had barely said a word to her since arriving back to the offices and Lisbon had the distinct feeling that he was a little annoyed at her for some reason. Deciding she needed to take back control of the interview, Lisbon spoke softly to try calm the air and the tension down between the two men.

"What Jane means is you're our only real lead in this case at the moment and we have to make sure we are not leaving any stone unturned, especially as it involves a very important Senator and, unfortunately with your track record of being in the middle of these sorts of cases, Walter, we have to go through everything with a fine-tooth comb, alright? So, let's just recap over a few things."

Walter seemed to relax at Lisbon's calm, soothing words, shifting back down a little lower in his chair. Jane was still sat on the edge of his with both arms placed in front of him flat on the desk in a more aggressive pose.

"Ok… but I am just a witness here, right? Or do I need to phone my lawyer?" Lisbon noted the fear lacing Walters question, as it was slowly starting to dawn on him that he could be in very serious trouble.

"No…"

"Yes…"

Jane and Lisbon answered Walter question simultaneously. Lisbon turned towards to look at Jane, but he just continued to stare down Walter from across the table.

"No, it hasn't come to that yet, Walter. We are just waiting for forensics with the results on the murder weapon before moving on to other lines of inquiry. We just need to go back over your statement and the events of what actually happened tonight once more."

"Well, I can tell you now, forensics won't find my prints on any murder weapon," Walter replied confidently.

"Really? You seem pretty sure about that. So, if the weapon comes back completely clean, it will just be a coincidence, will it?" Jane asked, narrowing his eyes at Mashburn clearly watching him for any signs of lying or trying to cover up.

"What? Yes, of course! Listen, I had nothing to with this man's death!" Walter's voice was a little panicky again. He was now looking towards Lisbon with pleading eyes.

"Teresa you have to believe me."

Before Lisbon could respond there was a small knock on the interrogation room door diverting her attention away from Walter.

"Hmm, Agent Lisbon, Mrs. Poole, the senator's wife, is here to give her statement, Agent Abbott said I needed to let you know promptly."

Wylie was wrapped around the door and turning his head in the direction of a very attractive blonde sitting on a chair by his desk. Lisbon spotted Mrs. Poole, who was tall, blonde, and slim, wearing a very sexy black embroidered full-length dress with a slit up one leg.

Mashburn turned as well to see for himself at the grieving widow, who was sitting outside the glass, Jane had taken his eyes off Walter the whole time, noticing he was looking more worried and uncomfortable at seeing the senator's widow suddenly appear.

"Ok, thank you, Wylie. Can you please show her to the fish bowl and tell her we will be with her shortly? Thank you."

Lisbon smiled kindly towards the younger agent. Wylie backed out of the interrogation room gently, closing the door behind him. Lisbon looked back towards Walter and once again began her line of questioning.

"Ok, Walter so let's just go over—-"

"How long have you been sleeping with the widow?"

Once again Jane had cut across Lisbon before she could even ask a question, which was really starting to get on her nerves considering she was the actual agent in the room.

Walter shifted a little uncomfortably in his chair before clearing his throat. "Excuse me?"

"You heard. How long?"

"I don't know what you're talking about Patrick. I've never met the woman."

"Oh please, Walter. You practically fell off your chair when my colleague informed us the senator's widow was here. You're clearly showing signs of sweating, unease and nervousness at this woman's presence and now you can't stop glancing over to see if she has noticed you. So why don't you do us all a favor, save us a lot of time, and just confess? I will ask you again. How long have you and the grieving widow been sleeping together?"

Lisbon was starting to get annoyed at Jane's snarky attitude. Just as she was about to speak up, it was Walter's turn to cut her off.

"Fine. Ok, yes, I'll admit I have had sexual relations with Gloria Poole."Jane noticed Lisbon body tense slightly and her mouth fall open a little in shock by Walter's statement.

Jane noticed Lisbon body tense slightly and her mouth fall open a little in shock by Walter's statement."

"But that ended months ago and I can assure you we are no longer involved…" Mashburn trailed off.

"Really? And why's that?" Jane moved back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest.

"Well, let's say we had different ideas on what our 'fling' actually was. She has some obsessive tendencies. Fatal attraction type stuff. I got out of that mess quick, sharp, let me tell you."

"So, just another helpless victim to the Mashburn charm, was she?" Jane said sarcastically.

"Yes, something like that. My own fault I suppose. I should have set her straight from the start. It was just sex, but she wanted much more and my money no doubt."

"Well, what do you expect when all the women you seem to go for are either airhead models or money grabbing gold-diggers who drop their panties at dinner and a smile?"

Jane moved his head in the direction of the attractive blonde now walking across the bullpen with Wylie. Mrs. Poole was 25 years younger than the senator had been and was your typical trophy looking wife.

"Well, I wouldn't say all my women were like that…" Mashburn turned his eyes smiling towards the brunette sat by Jane's side, smirking even more when he noticed Lisbon blushing.

Lisbon face was showing anger at Jane's evaluation of the women in Walter's life, especially as she happen to be one of them. She wasn't 100% sure if Jane knew about her one night stand with the millionaire, but by his stripy jealous behavior and the fact that he was Patrick Jane, she was guessing he did. Ignoring her death stare, Jane turned his attention back towards Walter, knowing he had said the wrong thing and would be paying for it later.

"So… did senator Poole know about your affair with his sexy charming wife?"

Lisbon's anger was starting to build, but this time it was at Jane's overall assessment of the senator's wife. She wasn't normally a jealous woman, but she didn't like it when the man she loved spoke about another woman so openly in front of her.

"I doubt it? Why would he agree to give me private forestry land for my new holiday home if he had known I had slept with his wife?"

"So you're saying that it never once crossed your mind that when he invited you to meet him privately, it might have something to do with the affair you're having with his wife?" Jane asked.

"Was? I was having an affair with his wife. It is over now. It has been over for months now and I am a free man." Walter raised his eyebrows at Lisbon, giving her a cheeky smile letting her know his availability status.

Lisbon was about to ask if he had any contact with the Senator's wife at the fundraiser, but once again, Jane jumped in before she had the chance.

"You know what I think Walter? I think the senator invited you up to the room to confront you about your affair with his wife. I think you two got into a big fight, and I think he went for you. You shot him, and when you realized he was still alive, you finished him off by smashing his head in. That's what I think…"

Walter started laughing, shaking his head in disbelief at Jane's accusation. "That's a joke, right?"

Even Lisbon knew that it was a weak accusation and with no real evidence to back it up either.

"No. In fact, I think it's the perfect motive, wouldn't you agree Agent Lisbon?"

"Well…" Again, before Lisbon could answer or ask any questions herself, Jane had moved the line of questioning on to the next point.

"Do you know what, Walter? I think it's best you do call your lawyer after all. You're going to need their services." Jane paused when something outside of the interrogation room caught his eye."If you'll excuse me, I think my services are needed elsewhere…"

Lisbon and Walter both turned to see that Agent Abbott was standing outside the door gesturing for Jane's attention. Jane pushed back his chair, storming quickly out of the room, leaving Lisbon and Walter alone for the first time since their reunion earlier.

Lisbon sat watching her boyfriend through the glass chatting with her boss. She was a little stunned to see Jane acting in this way. He was normally a master of hiding his feelings, but she was starting to realize that his bad mood was definitely linked to her and the man sitting opposite.

"You're looking really beautiful tonight. That shade of green is very stunning on you. The cut of the dress is very flattering on your figure too."

She didn't respond to any of Walter's playful remarks. Lisbon watched as Abbott and Jane turned and walked towards Abbott's office.

"Please tell me that Jane is wrong, Walter?"

"Of course he is wrong. Teresa, I'm no killer," Walter sighed, looking hurt. It hadn't been the first time she had thought this about him and it hurt him that even now, after everything that had happened between them, she still wasn't sure of who he was.

"You know what? Patrick Jane shouldn't tarnish everyone with his own killing brush…."

The hurt, mortified look that crossed Lisbon face was all that Walter needed for all the pieces to click into place and confirming any suspicions he had about their new improved relationship.

"Wow… You really… are you really sleeping with him… aren't you?" he asked her, astonished.

"What? NO! Why would you think that?" Lisbon knew she was stumbling in her words, but she tried to look confident as though she had no idea what Mashburn was talking about.

"Well, I'm no mentalist, but Patrick is treating me like I'm Satan's and Hugh Heffners offspring dressed in a tux, which I can only assume is down to his jealousy at our history…" Lisbon blushed once again remembering their sexy one night spent together many years ago.

"And you, my fine woman, have looked mortified ever since the moment you laid eyes on me in that room. I assume this is because you're having to deal with your now present and past lover in the same room… plus you're a terrible liar, Teresa."

"I don't know what you're talking about! We are… Look… it's none of your business who I am seeing! Ok, let's just drop it."

"So… you admit that you and Patrick are an item now, then?"

"What? No. That's not what I said."

"No? So your single then…"

"No, I didn't say that either."

"No?

"Look, my love life has nothing to do with you, but if you must know I am with someone now."

"…. Who?" Walter knew full well who she was involved with but played along anyway.

"Uh, Just a guy… You don't know him!" she was a terrible liar and Walter knew she was too, as she was avoiding eye contact with him and fidgeting with her hands in her lap like a naughty guilty school girl.

"Hmm…. So this guy your with? Is it serious?"

"Well… yes, it is actually. It's love," Lisbon said proudly, sitting up in her chair with a beaming smile across her face.

"Love… wow. So you live together then?"

"Well, we aren't officially living together, no, but he has a key to my home and he spends most of his nights at mine. So it's practically living together…"

"Hmm… Now see, if I classed every woman I had said I love you to, and who had given me their keys, I'd probably be in serious trouble by now…"

Annoyed at Walter belittling her relationship with Jane she finally snapped.

"Look, it is a serious relationship and it is love, I am not discussing this with you anymore. Ok, you are a suspect and I am an FBI agent. My private life has nothing to do with you, so just be quiet." She folded her arms across her chest in annoyance which just pushed up her cleavage up more so Walter got a very generous eye full.

Walter smiled knowing he had hit a nerve and found some sort of insecurity in their new budding relationship as well as the nice view of her breasts she was now displaying. It definitely confirmed to him that she was personally involved with her crazy consultant Patrick Jane, even if for some reason she was still trying to deny it.

Lisbon began picking up the statement forms placed in front of her. Before she could stand to leave, Walter reached out, grabbing her hand and touching her wrist softly. She looked at him shocked by his very inappropriate gesture. "Have dinner with me? For old times sakes? I've missed you…"

"What? No, I don't think so."

Lisbon pulled her hand sharply away looking away shyly remembering exactly what had happened the last time he had invited her 'out for dinner'".

"Why not? It's just dinner. Two old Friends catching up. What's the harm? Or will your new "boyfriend" not allow you to have dinner with an old friend…. Or are you under the thumb now?"

"Hey, I am NOT under anyone's thumb! Thank you very much, I do what I want, when I want."

"Well… Good. I'm glad to hear it Teresa. Friday, then. 8pm. Dinner at the Plaza. We can eat in the fabulous restaurant. They do an amazing Tiramisu, or I can just call room service to my penthouse suite like we did last time…" He said wiggling his eyebrows at her.

Lisbon rolled her eyes, finally deciding to tell Walter about her new relationship with Patrick Jane but before she could tell him, the interrogation door opened and Agent Abbott entered.

"Mr. Mashburn, I've been informed by Mr. Jane that you need to make a phone call to your lawyer. If you will follow me please, and Agent Vega will assist you. Agent Lisbon, just so you know, senator Poole's widow is still waiting."

"Yes. Thank you, sir. I am on my way."

Walter stood from the table, straightening his jacket."

"Well, this is not how I planned to spend my three weeks in Texas, but I can assure you it's all a big misunderstanding and my lawyer will sort out the rest. Teresa, I look forward to seeing you on Friday. Well, unless I am being arrested and tried for murder that is…"

With this, Walter winked cheekily at her leaving the room. Lisbon was now alone. She was a little stunned at how that whole interview had just gone. She was just grateful that Jane hadn't been around to witness the end of it. She knew if he had, he would have chewed Walter up and definitely have exposed their personal relationship to Walter in an unprofessional way.

Lisbon stood from the table, squeezing her forehead. She could feel a tension headache was starting to form. She headed out towards the fishbowl to go speak to the senator's grieving widow.

What Lisbon hadn't noticed, was on that on the other side of the two-way interrogation mirror, Jane had stood watching their whole conversation. Jane could feel more annoyance building up inside him, not sure if he was more annoyed at Walter Mashburn for making an open move on his girlfriend or at his girlfriend for not telling Walter the truth and allowing him to do so. All Jane knew was that he was never leaving Teresa alone with her ex-lover again anytime soon.


	3. Falling In The Wrong Direction

Jane reached over and dumped the tea bag into the waste can beside the sink and leaned back to watch as Lisbon came in the small kitchen area to pour herself a cup of coffee. She had changed out of the emerald dress and was now in a black pantsuit with a pink blouse. It was an extra set of clothing she kept in her FBI locker. He watched as she turned around and looked at him queerly as he stared intently at her. She took a sip of her coffee and sat the cup on the counter in front of her.

"What?" she asked him, tilting her head. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

He sipped a hefty sip of his tea and shrugged. He was upset that she _was_ flaunting a relationship to Walter—just not _theirs_. Why did she find the need to hide it? Since when was he something to be hidden? He didn't like the way Walter was ingratiating Lisbon in every single cheesy thing he had to say about women. He also didn't like that Lisbon was upset with him for calling Walters' lovers the things he had, because both he and Teresa knew that he wasn't referring to her.

"I am trying to decide why you want to hide our relationship from Walter Mashburn," he finally said. "He's in there throwing himself at you and you don't even want to tell him that we are together so that he stops."

"Because it's none of his damn business, Jane," she told him, crossing her arms across her chest. "He just likes using his charms on women. He doesn't care which."

"Oh," Jane said, amusement in his voice. "But he does. He _does _care which woman."

"You were watching from the other side of the glass, weren't you? I guess I should have figured that," Lisbon said, kicking herself internally for forgetting about the two-way.

"Hmm," Jane muttered. "It wasn't professional of me, but then I never considered myself much of a professional, anyway."

Lisbon sighed and ran a hand through her hair, which she hadn't unclipped from the fancy hairdo from the fundraiser. Jane was upset that she was allowing Walter to hit on her all because she didn't admit they were a couple. It was natural; the dislike perforated his skin when he looked at Walter now. Jane, from his demeanor when they first met Walter at the crime scene, had cold read the situation and knew that his instincts about them four years ago were correct: they had indeed slept together the day he come around to speak to Walter at the hotel. Lisbon figured this fed into Jane's discord with Mashburn.

"We can discuss this at home, Jane," she told him, picking up her coffee mug and placing it in the sink. "We've got Mrs. Poole in interrogation room two. We're up," she told him, walking past him and exiting the small kitchen.

Jane followed her out, setting his tea on the counter, and into the interrogation room where the very captivating and leggy Gloria Poole sat, her fur coat slung over her lap. Lisbon and Jane sat across from her and Lisbon placed an initiatory smile on her face, one that she didn't mean.

"You can put your coat on the table, Mrs. Poole," Lisbon told her.

"I don't want it dirty," Mrs. Poole responded. "And, please, call me Gloria."

"Gloria," Jane repeated. "Gloria, how long have you and Walter Mashburn been having an affair?"

"Jane," Lisbon whispered hard. "Easy."

"Okay," Jane said, putting up a hand in defense. "My partner, here, thinks I should go easy on you. So, Gloria, where were you during the timeframe of your husband's murder?"

Gloria Poole sat back in her chair and sighed. "Let me see..."

"It was literally a big room of people, Gloria," Jane snapped his fingers. "Only so many places you could have been."

"Excuse my partner, Gloria," Lisbon apologized. "We've not slept for a while. Can you tell me where you were around 9pm, the time your husband went missing?"

"I was speaking with some other women about the drop in donations to local schools," Gloria recalled, screwing up her face in thought. "I remember speaking to Senator Keating, and that's when I told him my husband left me to use the bathroom and never returned."

"So they can bear witness for your whereabouts?" Lisbon asked. "Strictly routine!" she added when she saw the look on Gloria's face.

"Meh," Jane interrupted. "Gloria, you were not around during the time of your husband's death."

"Wait, wait!" Lisbon shouted, turning toward Jane and shaking her head. "How do you know? You can't just sit here and assume, Jane. You've been in this position enough to know that."

Jane rose from his seat and walked over toward Gloria, sitting on the edge of the table and pointing to the fur coat she held steadfastly across her lap.

"That's a chocolate-colored Minx coat, isn't it?" Jane asked.

"Well, yes."

"Were you wearing it all night?"

"Of course! I don't let this coat out of my sight! It costs more than some houses!" Gloria shot back. "I can't trust those coat takers. They steal."

"Well, then you are a liar, Mrs. Poole," Jane told her, reaching down and grabbing the coat off her lap. "I didn't see a chocolate-colored Minx coat around at the time you say you were talking with other people."

Lisbon's brows scrunched. She had remembered back to the party, and looking at all the ladies in fur coats as a pungent action when she had asked the Senators Jane was talking with where their wives were. She remembered that she hadn't seen a brown fur coat either. There wasn't any in the room when she had surveyed it.

"Come to think of it," Lisbon interjected, "I looked all around that room about that time, and I didn't see it, either. And, believe me, I was looking for it."

Gloria Poole's eyes doubled in size as she looked from Jane to Lisbon. She reached over and snatched her fur coat back from Jane and shook it out beside her as if Jane had contaminated it.

"I don't much care for your accusatory tone," she told Lisbon. "Why would I want to kill my own husband?"

"Well," Jane replied. "That is the million dollar question. I'm sure you could afford it."

"Let's start this again, Mrs. Poole," Lisbon commanded. "Where were you at the time of the murder?"

Gloria cleared her throat and leaned her body close to Jane and Lisbon. The expensive perfume wafting from her was enough to make Lisbon gag, but she waited for the woman to speak again.

"Walter told you about us?" she asked, closing her eyes as if to close out the shame. "I mean...the affair?"

"Walter has told us lots of things," Lisbon answered. "Including the fact you were sleeping with him."

Gloria sighed heavily and cleared her throat once again. Jane turned and buried a hand in his pocket, walking around Gloria and resting his free hand on the back of her chair. Lisbon knew this was something he did to make the person in the seat uncomfortable. It worked surprisingly well.

"How long were you and Mashburn having the affair, Gloria?" Jane asked, looking at the back of the woman's head. "A few weeks? A month?"

"Your husband can't find out anymore, Gloria," Lisbon reminded her. "Tell us."

"About the same time he came to my husband's office," Gloria gave up easily. "I remember coming by to ask if he was ready for our reservations at _Il Vivitali_. Walter was waiting for him to finish up a meeting."

"And you caught on to his charm," Jane finished. "Yeah, that happens a lot, apparently." His gaze fell to Lisbon.

"It was friendly, at first," Gloria went on. "He would come over to speak to my husband and if he wasn't home, we would talk about things."

"What things did you talk about?"

There was a slight hesitation in Gloria's demeanor. She turned her eyes down, closed them, and sighed deeply. Lisbon let her do this, not pressing her to talk. After a moment, she lifted her eyes, opening them and leaning forward toward Lisbon.

"I'm not proud of this," she started, whispering into the icy silence of the room, "but I agreed to talk my husband into relinquishing some of the state forestry land to Walter in exchange for donations. Big ones."

"So, you are the one who told Mashburn that if he donated to your husband's campaign, that you would talk him into giving Walter state land?"

"Yes."

"How did this become a sexual relationship, Gloria?" Jane asked her, coming around the table again and sitting down. "How do you get from talking about donations to sex?"

"It just happened," she told Jane. "He was charming and nice. He liked that we had money. He felt like I wouldn't use him."

"So, getting back to the fundraiser," Lisbon steered. "Care to be truthful this time? Where were you, Gloria?"

The beautiful and elegant Gloria's face turned in embarrassment. Her face, once calm and dignified, became starched in crimson on her cheeks. Lisbon, a woman, knew exactly what that look was about. Jane, a man, was looking at the woman very peculiarly. Lisbon didn't think Jane didn't get it, it was rather that she just admitted to having an affair with Walter while sticking her hand in her husband's dealings and she was sitting here glowing like a Christmas bulb.

"You were with Mashburn, weren't you?" Lisbon asked, placing her hands on the table between them. "You were having sex with him while your husband went missing."

Gloria said nothing to that. Lisbon didn't press her, either. Lisbon didn't want her to lawyer up too quickly. She thought she might be able to crack her enough to give her something useful. Lisbon turned her gaze to Jane, who had also leaned forward. Reading his face, she saw that he was still upset about what happened with the interrogation of Walter earlier. He saw a man who used women as objects, and he didn't like that Lisbon was on that list. She saw his jaw clench and she knew he was thinking about all of this; how Lisbon decided to hide her relationship with Jane to Walter and how Walter seemingly had conquests-one of which Jane considered Lisbon to be.

"Did you see Mashburn after that? At the fundraiser?" Jane asked, his voice passive. "You wouldn't dare be seen leaving together from a back room. Not a Senator's wife and a rich, debonair man trying to garner a favor from him. So, did you see where he went when he left?"

"Yes," Gloria replied. "He went upstairs right after."

"You watched him go up?"

"Yes."

"How long was Senator Poole missing at that time?" Jane asked. "Can you remember?"

"He wasn't missing then," Gloria replied. "He walked with Walter to the offices to talk after Walter wanted to discuss a deal."

"So you lied when you said he was missing when you and Walter had sex?"

"Yes," she confirmed. "I was ashamed. Still am."

"Senator Poole was still alive when Walter went up with him," Lisbon told Jane. "You better let Walter call his lawyer, now. He's going to need him."

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

They arrived home late in the evening. Lisbon's feet ached from the amount of time her feet were in high-heels, and Jane had avoided speaking to her the entire way home. The few words she managed to get out of Jane were pertained strictly to the fact that Walter Mashburn was being held overnight after Gloria Poole had casted him up as being the last one seen with the victim. Mashburn had lawyered up immediately and had refused to speak to them anymore. Jane had told Lisbon what they had against Walter was circumstantial, but enough to hold him for twenty-four hours without raising the ire of his lawyer, giving Jane enough time to figure out what happened by going back to the crime scene with Cho tomorrow morning. Otherwise, there was an icy silence between them causing ripples of tension.

Finally unable to take the silence anymore, Lisbon turned to him as she threw her shoes down in the hallway and blocked his way past her that led into the small living area. She had enough of this ridiculous quiet from him. She knew she was wrong in what she was doing with Mashburn, but she felt that he was just punishing her needlessly by closing her out of his thoughts. He never was one to shy away from what he was thinking, but in the time she had come to love him, she found that he often displaced his issues with her in silence, because he knew she hated it.

"I know what I am doing is wrong," Lisbon started, pressing her hands to either side of the hallway walls so he couldn't squeeze past her. "I know that. But, Jane, it really is none of Walter's business about us."

He was silent just for a moment. A flash of something behind his eyes flickered and died as he stared at her in the dimly lit hall. He brought a finger to his lips and tapped, tapped, tapped. He was thinking of a response, but Lisbon didn't let him. She pressed on.

"His innuendoes and remarks don't penetrate into me, Jane," she told him, her voice becoming softer. "I know exactly who I want them to come from to make the words matter, Jane. His words don't."

Jane's gaze intensified and he sighed. He brought his hand down from his mouth and reached out to move her hand from the wall, though he didn't try to get around her. Instead, Jane brought her hand to his chest and moved a step forward so he was inches from her body.

"I don't like that you feel the need to hide what we have, Teresa," he told her. "You open up to everyone on the team about us, but when it comes to Walter, you want to sweep it under the rug. I don't understand. It's not just about it not being his business."

Lisbon shook her head and took her other hand down from the wall, bringing it to her side. He had a point. It wasn't just none of Mashburn's business. It was that she never resolved herself to seeing Walter again. When he came back into her life, disrupting the joy she was feeling, she had wanted to give him no satisfaction in stirring up anything between Jane and herself. Walter Mashburn had the superb ability to drive a wedge in anything he set his mind to. The one-night-stand they shared would be casted up in her and Jane's face many times, she knew. Or, at least, she suspected he would. She knew from interrogating him that he wasn't going to go quietly or easily. It was best to play the single card then deal with anything that would threaten what she had with Jane.

But then she supposed that was what was going on right now. Jane was rightfully upset that she had not told Mashburn about them, but instead invited Mashburn in with thinking he had a shot with the lucky, single Teresa Lisbon.

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I didn't bother to consult with you about anything."

"You know I know you slept with him, don't you?" Jane asked her. He was not unkind, just matter-of-fact.

"I figured," she admitted. "But, Jane, that was a long time ago. Before you and I even thought about being what we are now to each other." She gazed at him as if willing him to understand.

He nodded his head in some understanding. He did understand. He wasn't just doing it for the sake of saving argument. He didn't deny Lisbon the pleasures in life that he couldn't give her at one time. He didn't feel angry for her doing what any other woman does in life. He had pushed them together in a way, and he didn't fault them for acting on that shove. He also knew he had done the very same with Lorelei Martins, and that was something he knew had devastated Lisbon when she found out. He had hurt her. When she had bedded Walter, she had not done it and hurt Jane. He wasn't mad at her for sleeping with Walter, then. But he was upset now that they were together that Walter Mashburn pops up and starts reclaiming old territories. He despised it. And that is why he hated her keeping it secret from him that they were an item. It gave Walter an open door in Jane's opinion.

"I'm not upset about that," Jane answered her. "I know I caused that interaction with my pushing." He released her hand he had pinned to his chest and reached out to pull her chin up so she was looking straight into his eyes. "I'm upset because I love you and don't care who knows about it. You don't care either, except for him."

"He—"

"Thinks you're single and keeps making crude comments and he asked you on a date, Teresa," Jane told her. "You declined, but he wouldn't have asked if you'd just told him the truth."

"He would," she protested. "I told him I was seeing someone else and he still insisted on having dinner, Jane."

"But he wouldn't have done it had he known it was me, Teresa," he chuckled. "Walter knows a match when he spews gas."

"You trust me, right, Patrick?" she asked, tilting her head a little in his grasp on her chin.

"Completely," he answered her without hesitation. "Walter, no."

"Well, trust in me that this is the right thing to do," she told him. "Just for now," she added off his look.

He sighed, taking his hand from her chin and drifting it down her side to her waist. He pushed her gently against him and lowered his lips to her ear.

"If this is what you want to do," he whispered, "then do it you shall."

"So, you're not mad at me anymore?" she questioned, distracted by the feel of his warm lips gliding across her cheek, heading toward her mouth.

"I'll make judgment later," he said, finding her lips with his own and parting them softly, pressing gently.

Lisbon knew the subject was dropped for now. Her hands came up to lock behind his neck as he turned her gently into the wall, pressing her body against it and his body against hers. His neatly placed curls tumbled against his forehead as his kiss deepened and intensified, smashing into hers, sucking her lips in hard.

Lisbon unlocked her hands from around Jane's neck and pressed a palm to his cheek, kissing him back just as hard as he was kissing her. Her other hand traveled down between them to feel the material of his vest, feeling the buttons under her palm as she rubbed her hand against his chest.

"_Here_?" she finally gasped after he let her come up for air. "Hallway?"

"Too uncomfortable?" he responded, pressing his lips to her neck. "I think it's nice..."

Lisbon felt his hand fall against the wall next to her head as his other hand drifted up from her waist and pressed the side of her neck as his finger tipped up her chin so he could trail kisses down her throat. She heard herself exhale sharply as the sensation of his mouth rippled downward, pulling at her belly.

"Jane," she whispered, dropping her hands so her fingers could loop into the waist of his pants.

His hand dropped from her neck and trailed down her collar-bone. "These damn blazers," he told her. "So much trouble to take off quickly."

Lisbon would have responded with a groan as she felt his hands move inside her blazer, but her phone rang loudly, startling her. Jane leaned beside her and placed his forehead on the wall in frustration as he let her go from the wall so she could answer her phone.

"Of course," he muttered, turning to watch as she lifted the phone and answered.

He watched her expression change, and he knew it was Abbott. Work never seemed to be far away when they needed alone time. This alone time, Jane thought, was more than needed. He wanted to show her how sorry he was about hurting her feelings for what he said to Mashburn and his type of women. He also wanted to show her how much she meant to him and how much hiding what they have would never change that. He didn't have to like it, and he was upset with her for doing it, but he would never find her untrustworthy when it came to Mashburn. He trusted her completely, and him being distant and withdrawn from her was just part of his primal reaction to what he considered a rival. And, actually, Mashburn _was_ a rival. He had been intimate with Lisbon. _His_ Lisbon.

"Okay," Lisbon said to Abbott on the phone. "And he's willing to come clean with the truth this time?"

Jane fixed his curls as he watched her nod her head to whatever Abbott was telling her. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Lisbon hung up the phone and pocketed it again.

"Work?" Jane asked her, placing his hands in his pockets. "We just left there."

"It's Mashburn," she told Jane, noticing the frown developing on Jane's face. "He wants to tell the truth."

"Yeah. Fine. Great. Let's go," Jane told her, moving to go around her to the front door. "We should just pack our stuff and move into the FBI office," he added irritably.

When he didn't hear Lisbon's footfalls behind him, he turned and saw that she was still standing in the same place, her lip curled into her mouth between her teeth.

"What is it?"

"Mashburn wants to come clean," Lisbon repeated.

"I got that, Teresa," Jane replied. "Shall we?"

Jane pointed at the front door and smiled feebly. "That was a joke about moving there. I'm sorry. Poor taste of humor."

"He doesn't want you to come," Lisbon told him gently. "He only wants to talk to me."

"He doesn't get to choose, Teresa," Jane said, coming to stand in front of her.

"Abbott agreed," Lisbon told him. "Look, it's just so we can get to the bottom of this. It's just a second interrogation, Jane. Remember the trust thing we just talked about?"

Jane nodded his head. He couldn't disagree with her. He had told her he'd trust her. He watched as she closed the gap between them, stepped on her tip-toes, and kissed him. He kissed her back and moved so she could pass to leave. Lisbon reached down for her flats, replacing the high-heels she kicked off earlier.

"Raincheck on this?" Lisbon arched her eyebrow.

"Yeah," he told her softly. "Raincheck."

She smiled, turned, and disappeared through the door leaving Jane standing there in the dim hallway watching the silence creep around him. He _did_ trust her. His issue wasn't Lisbon.

It was Mashburn.

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

Lisbon dragged herself into the interrogation room forty-five minutes later. She placed the folder in her hand down on the table between them and sat down, leaning on her elbows. She opened the folder and slid the top sheet of paper over to Mashburn. His gaze was intense; it bore into her and made her borderline uncomfortable with his glare.

"This is Gloria Poole's statement, Walter," Lisbon told him, pointing her finger at the part that incriminated him. "Earlier, you refused to talk and lawyered up. Why the change in tune?"

"Teresa," Mashburn started, leaning forward on his elbows to match her stance. "I don't need to read her statement to know what she said. She's a sell-out. Selling nudges for funds under her own husband's nose."

"So, she's lying?" Lisbon asked.

"Teresa, I wanted to talk to you without Jane for a reason," said Walter. "I am willing to talk on one condition."

"What is that?"

"First, I need you to understand that this isn't how I normally would do this. I am much more authentic. However, seeing as she is a Senator's wife, her testimony against me will be the nail in my proverbial coffin, I have no choice."

"Out with it, Walter."

"If you go on a date with me, I'll give you some information I know that will help you find the _real_ killer of Poole," Walter said, a smile unfurling across his face.

Lisbon laughed despite the seriousness of the situation. Was he being serious? Jane had done this a few times to get a confession, but she never could! This wasn't her style. Besides, she was in love with Jane. She knew this was what Jane was telling her earlier. His words came to haunt her as she looked across the table and Walter who was smiling at her like a Cheshire cat. Lisbon shook her head vehemently.

"No," she retorted. "This isn't a game, Walter. You could go to jail for a long time."

"I know," Mashburn said. "Which is why you won't let me. You know I didn't do this, Teresa. It's written all over your face."

"Walter..."

"Listen, it's just one date. Once it's over, I'll sing like a bird and you can go your way if you don't want anything more to do with me," he offered. "You're not the kind of person who lets an innocent man go to jail."

"I don't know that you are innocent, Walter," Lisbon told him. "This statement," she jabbed the paper, "says you aren't."

In Lisbon's instincts, she did feel that Mashburn was not the killer. She didn't know why she felt like this, but she knew Walter Mashburn, and couldn't imagine him killing a salient Senator over some trees.

"Just because I went up with him doesn't mean I killed him, Teresa," he replied. "And this is where it gets good. I was there in the room, Teresa."

"You said you were pushed in that room and locked in," Lisbon reminded him. "Another lie?"

"Not exactly," he replied. "I say no more until you answer my question, Teresa. This is my deal."

"No."

"Can you bring Abbott in here, then?"

"What for?"

"I want to confess to the murder of Senator Poole."

Thanks for the reviews, as always. This chapter brought to you by damnitjane.


	4. Falling Deception

FALLING DECEPTION

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Lisbon stood at her kitchen sink, staring intently out of the window, her mind racing with all that had happened with Walter the night before. Her emotions drifted between anger and frustration, mainly anger at herself. She wished she was the kind of person to call Walters bluff, that she should have let him confessed to the senator's murder and see where it got him, but she couldn't do it. She couldn't risk seeing an innocent man confess to something he didn't do.

She told Walter point-blank that they would solve the murder without his help, and he could stick his date and blackmail where the sun don't shine. Walter had just laughed and told her he would see her Friday at eight before winking at her and leaving the room with his overpaid lawyer in toll.

Basically, the way she saw it, they had to solve the senators murder so she could then tell Walter Mashburn where he could stick his date and maybe she will give him a punch on the nose for his utter arrogance too. There was also the case of telling Jane about Walters little blackmail stunt. That was not a conversation she was looking forward to at all.

For now, she decided to keep it to herself until Jane needed to know. She _hated _keeping things from him. Especially as they were still trying to figure out their new romantic relationship. Keeping secrets was something she had made clear was not an opinion anymore if they were to have a serious future. She had spent years being kept in the dark and wasn't prepare to settle for that anymore. Now though, for the first time in thirteen years, she was finally seeing the other side of the coin. She didn't want to keep things from Jane, but in this case, she felt it was best. It was best for the case, for him and Walters sake in the long run.

Besides, she had every intention of telling Jane, _eventually._ That is if he hadn't worked it out for himself, meaning she would have to produce her best poker face for the next day or two. Distraction was the key: tea, sex, eggs and any other of his favorite things. If she could distract him away from Walter till the case was over, she may never need to tell him at all.

Lisbon was so engrossed in her own thoughts that she hadn't heard Jane walk into the kitchen. It was only when he wrapped his arms around her waist that she realized she was no longer alone.

"Good Morning beautiful…"

Jane had just gotten out the shower and she could feel that his hair was still a little damp as he nuzzled into her neck planting a light kiss on the milky flesh.

"Hey you…" She said huskily.

She turned herself around in his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down for a good morning kiss. Slowly parting his mouth open with her tongue, she pressed her body more into him, responding back to her Jane cupped her ass, lifting her up a little pressing her lower body into his. Their kiss soon transformed from light to hard, and if it hadn't been for Jane pulling away for breath, they would have _definitely_ been having sex on the kitchen table. Not that it would have been for the first time, either.

"Hmm… Now, I could be wrong, but I'd say there was a reason for all this sudden passionate affection you're showing me, Agent Lisbon. I mean, you come back in the early hours, waking me in the most pleasurable way a man could hope for…"

"Are you complaining?" She asked, raising both eyebrows at his complaint.

"No, I'm not complaining. In fact, far from it, my love. If you want to make that a new daily waking up ritual, that's fine by me. It does make me wonder what is going on, however. Normally, after a high-profile murder case and a very late night stuck at the office, you just want to fall into a deep slumber in my arms. But last night you come back and sleep was definitely the last thing on your mind," Jane smiled a wickedly at her, clearly remembering their energetic lovemaking session at four in the morning. "And it makes me wonder why…"

"No reason. I just want to show you I love you, I missed you. That's all. Plus, I wanted to finish what we started earlier, you know, before I got called back to the office."

"Teresa, you know you can't lie to me, I know what's wrong…"

"You do?" Lisbon swallowed nervously, worried he had somehow figured it all out already.

"Yes, you're feeling guilty over what happened yesterday about not telling Walter about our new relationship."

"Oh… Right… Yes… you were right, I should have told him the truth straight off."

"Look, I trust you, Teresa. Okay? Now are you going to tell me what happened last night? What did Walter say?"

"Uh… Well, he said he has vital information about the identity of Senators killer, but he would only talk to me."

"Ok…?" Jane frowned at her waiting for her to expand more information.

"Huh? Oh… Well, he wouldn't talk."

Lisbon turned her head a little avoiding Jane intense eye contact.

"But you just said he would only talk to you about it?"

"Yes, well, he did… but then he clamped up again and said he wouldn't tell us anything. Not even to me. In the end, Abbott had to let him go. We couldn't hold him any longer. It's all circumstantial evidence at the moment."

"So, you say Walter demanded to talk to you, made Abbott drag you all the way back to the office, but when you got there he said nothing…"

"Yeah. You know Walter likes to get people jumping through hoops for him. included. He is just playing games as normal. That's all."

"Hmm…. " Jane narrowed his eyes at her. He knew she was hiding something from him. He was studying her face the whole time she had spun him this little tale and she had avoided looking at him directly in the eye.

Eventually, Lisbon knew he was studying her reactions and the cogs in his head were already beginning to turn so she stepped out of his tight embrace.

"Right... Well, there's boiling water in the kettle. And I need to take a shower before work."

Lisbon finally looked up at him, placing a hand on his face running her thumb gently across his cheekbone.

"I love you, Patrick…"

Before he could return the sentiment, she had left the kitchen, making her way down the hall to their bedroom to get ready for work without a glance backward.

Jane knew there was something else bothering her. She was definitely hiding something from him. Her confession of love to him had confirmed that. She had only ever said the words, "I love you, Patrick" out loud a few times. Mostly when they were making love and she was caught up and was lost in that moment.

Jane decided he wouldn't push her for now. She would just shut down on him. But he was determined he would discover whatever she was trying to hide from him. All he knew for sure was, whatever it was, it definitely involved Walter Mashburn.

The bullpen was a hive of activity. The Senator's murder was a very high-profile case, and gaining a lot of coverage by the press, national networks were camping outside the FBI building wanting a statement on the investigation and suspects, if they had any. Jane had spent most of the morning asleep on his couch, which Lisbon was actually quite relieved about. It meant he wasn't hounding her about what was wrong. She was really trying to act normal, but having to keep things from him about the events of last night was starting to take its toll. How he managed to do it with people all these years was beyond her. It was exhausting, to be honest.

Lisbon was sitting at her desk when her cell vibrated, making a loud noise that startled her at first. She then smiled to herself assuming it was a text message from Jane laying behind her. Unfortunately, the cell number was a number she didn't recognize and the words on the screen told her it definitely wasn't from Jane.

_**Can't wait for our date Friday night, sexy dress essential. Xx WM**_

Lisbon slammed her phone face down in anger on her desk. She had no idea how Walter had managed to get hold of her cell phone number, and she was livid at the knowledge that clearly having tons of money in this world seem to buy you anything you wanted.

"Something wrong?" Jane hadn't moved or even bothered to open his eyes, but she could still hear the concern laced in his voice.

"Uh, nothing, just a text from… My brother."

"Which one?"

"Which one? What?" Lisbon said, confused at his question.

"Which brother?"

"Oh… Uh, Jimmy. He sent me a sexist joke. You know what he is like: mental age of fourteen-year-old."

"A sexist joke?… Right." Jane sighed a little and shifted himself to snuggle more into his couch.

Luckily, before Lisbon could answer him, Abbott entered the bullpen announcing to the whole room he wanted every agent to gather around as he important info about the media. Jane opened one eye, surveying all the agents heading toward the briefing area and chairs, knowing full well this meeting stood no real interest to him. He slowly turned himself on his side facing the back of the couch, sliding his hands between his knees snuggling back down to sleep again.

As Abbott started the briefing, the elevator doors slid open. Agent Collins and a young delivery guy carrying a large bouquet of red roses in his arms stepped forward. The flash of red caught the eye of Abbott and he paused to look at Agent Collins for an explanation.

"Uh, Sir... This guy has a delivery… " Agent Collins swallowed nervously as Abbott gave him a long death stare.

"Really? What gave it away Agent Collins?" Abbott stated sarcastically, rolling his eyes. The delivery guy stepped forward clearly not caring for Abbott or his sarcastic tone.

"Uh. Yeah, I got delivery for a… Agent Lisbon. Are they here?"

With this, Teresa swiveled around in her chair to stare at the stranger carrying the large bouquet of flowers.

"I'm Agent Lisbon…" Lisbon stood up from her chair eyeing the bouquet like it was a bomb about to go off.

"Here you go. Congrats. Enjoy."

Before she could respond, the delivery guy thrusted the twenty-four dozen red roses in her arms before he quickly turned to stride back towards the elevator. Lisbon could feel her face burning up with embarrassment in front of the whole bullpen. She looked towards Abbott apologizing and excused herself, she took off towards the kitchen area with every single agent now watching her as she carried the beautiful bouquet away.

When she got to the kitchen area, she placed them on the counter and picked up the message card. She was already thinking of ways to personally torture Jane later for this over the top romantic gesture. They had agreed to try to keep their private lives private and their personal relationship out of the office. Clearly, Jane had forgotten that fact. Picking up the card, she slid it open and read the message inside.

_**Beautiful flowers for a Beautiful woman, see you Friday. Walter x**_

She stood shocked for a moment before angrily storming over to the trash can, ripping up the card and throwing it in. She turned back to the flowers, picked them up and dumped them angrily into the sink. She needed to get back to the meeting, but as she turned to leave, she was greeted by Jane standing in the doorway watching her closely.

"Oh, hey. You're awake…." Lisbon could feel her hands sweating already by his intense gaze and she began wiping them down her pant legs.

"Who's the flowers from?"

"Flowers?"

"Yes, Teresa. The flowers. The very beautiful and very expensive twenty-four red roses you just practically threw away."

_Hmmmm…_

"Let me guess... Mashburn."

"What? No. Don't be ridiculous. I… I Don't know, there's no card," Lisbon was talking in her high voice again.

"No card? Hey?…" Jane walked into the kitchen room a little more and he noticed Lisbon step a little in front the trash can as to hide it from his view somehow.

"I thought they were from you…"

"Hmm... No, they are not from me. You told me no romantic gestures or PDA's at work, remember? And I haven't done so, have I?"

"Well… No, but… Well then maybe someone here has a crush on me," Lisbon smiled, confident that he would swallow that reason fully.

"A crush?" Jane said slowly raising an eyebrow at her feeble attempt to try to divert his attention away from Mashburn.

"Yes, a crush! Believe it or not, you're the only man on this earth who finds me sexually attractive, you know!" Lisbon folded her arms across her chest in annoyance that her own boyfriend found the notion of someone having a crush on her so hard to believe.

Jane laughed at her ridiculous outburst.

"Trust me, I know men do, Teresa. I see that every single day, everywhere we go. But I think we both know who these flowers are from. Otherwise, why else would you angrily dump the bouquet like that?"

"It doesn't matter who they are from. Let's just drop it, okay?" Lisbon knew she needed to divert Jane before this conversation led back to Mashburn and what had gone down last night.

"So... any thoughts on the case yet? I mean, Abbott is practically having a nervous breakdown out there with all the media and he us to wrap this case ASAP. Plus, I thought if we get this case wrapped up quickly, say, by the weekend, then me and you could take that trip down the coast in the silver bucket for a few days like you have wanted…"

Lisbon wiggled her eyebrows at Jane in a suggestive way. Distraction. That was Lisbon secret weapon in dealing with her very brilliant, intelligent, nosey, detective boyfriend.

"You? want to take a trip in the Silver Bucket?" It was Jane turn to cross his arms. "Teresa, we went to the supermarket the other day in my trailer and you vowed never to be seen in, and I quote, 'that awful the tin can on wheels ever again' and now you wanna take a trip away in it? What's going on?"

"What? nothing I just wanted some quality time with the man I love, that's all and the tin… and your _Airstream_ trailer makes you happy so… Do you know what? Forget I said anything. I need to get back to the briefing…"

Lisbon touched Jane lightly on his hand before leaving the kitchen area to show him some comfort. Once out of sight, though, Jane walked over to the sink, checking the flowers for a message card. He knew she was lying to him. He always did know. Her face gave her away every time. The little frown she did and the way she always avoided eye contact with him were her clear giveaways among many others. When Jane couldn't find any card on the flowers, he walked over to the trash can, just as he was about to lift the lid, Cho entered the room.

"Hey, Abbott wants us to go back to the crime scene, see if you can see anything we might last "

Jane sighed heavily, knowing his plan of going through the trash can to look for any love card from Walter was now out of the question.

"Right… fine. Let's go…"

A few hours later, Cho and Jane returned. Jane headed towards the kitchen for a cup of tea, whilst Cho updated the rest of the team of their findings. Lisbon knew this was not going the way she hoped. She wanted this case wrapped quickly as much as Abbott did for her own personal reasons and they were still hitting dead ends. Jane walked over to her desk sipping his tea sitting his himself on the edge of her desk before saying "Hey, I think we need to go interview Mashburn and Gloria Poole again…"

"What? Why? They gave us nothing…" Lisbon voiced a little too quickly. Jane stood up from her desk, noticing a little panic forming in her eyes and her face had also paled slightly too.

"Yes, well you may of not got anything out from Mashburn last night, but I, on the other hand, will… I'm going to go tell Abbott… Hey, Don't worry if this all works out the way I hope, we will wrap the case up and we will be able to take that little romantic trip in the Airstream this weekend like you suggested, I mean that's what you want to do, right? Jane tried not to smirk as he watched Lisbon face dropped in horror, realizing her diversion tactic from earlier was coming back to bite her hard on her ass now.

"Right. Of Course! I can't wait…" Lisbon replied in a very high-pitched strangled voice, smiling like she was the joker from the Batman movie, obviously trying to make herself look thrilled at the weekend prospect.

Jane walked towards Abbott's office chuckling to himself at how the woman he loved was one of the poorest liars and actresses he had ever met, she really was incredibly bad, how she had convinced a car thief and an entire prison full of inmates she was a criminal in the undercover mission he had no idea.

Jane felt something was amiss with Lisbon, once again. He knew her very well. Enough to know that something was being hidden from him. He didn't want to call her out on it just yet. He was sure that whatever it was would come out on its own.

At least, he _hoped_.

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: we do not own TM, its actors or anything else associated to the show. <strong>

* * *

><p>This chapter was brought to you by Brooklyn79.<p>

Enjoy! :)


	5. Falling Flat

FALLING FLAT

It was a few days later, on a Friday afternoon, and they finally got Mashburn back into the office for his third interview. They had trouble scheduling Mashburn's interview because his attorney kept asking for extensions on Walter's conditional release. The condition, which was more of a request, was that Mashburn had to remain in Austin until they cleared him and cut him loose from the suspects list.

Jane's fingers tapped the table between them in slow, annoying synchronicity as he stared at Walter Mashburn once again. They had finished interviewing Gloria Poole again, who had been evasive and adamant that she gave up what she knew. Mashburn, on the other hand, had something to hide. Jane had seen many men and women sit across from him with the same pasted smirk on his or her face as if to say they were innocent. But he always found out just how looks could be deceiving.

Lisbon, for all he suspected, was calm and neutral, except for her bottom lip, which was trapped between her teeth. It was a habit that Jane disliked, but it told him she had nervousness boiling under the skin. His eyes slid from Walter to Lisbon and back several times as he tore into Walter's story. After an hour of trying, and Walters' refusal to answer, he was allowed to go.

"His refusal to talk to us doesn't make sense," Jane told Lisbon, walking to the bullpen side-by-side a few minutes after Mashburn's departure. "He was awfully talkative the first time we spoke to him. He wants to talk to you, and then suddenly shuts up?"

"I told you," she replied, displaying her hands palms up. "I don't know what he is doing."

Jane said nothing. He didn't want to accuse her of lying, though he knew she was because he didn't want to fight with her. He loved her in ways she could never imagine, and hurting her by insinuating she was a liar was not something he was willing to do. There was something wrong, though. Something didn't sit right with him. Did Mashburn tell her something she didn't want to hear? Did he threaten her? This thought of him threatening Lisbon made Jane's hand curl in a tight fist by his side. If Mashburn had threatened her, there would be a dismantling at the FBI, and it wouldn't be pretty. Legally speaking, of course.

"You know," Jane started, clearing his throat from the anger he felt. "I don't particularly like another man sending you flowers, Teresa. Especially not one-night-stands. I know you like honesty from me, and I feel this is as honest as I can be."

They hadn't revisited this discussion since it happened, choosing to ignore the uneasiness the topic gave both of them. Jane didn't want to bring it back up, but his distaste for public affection from someone who was not him ruled over the easy road he thought would be better traveled. He was a man, after all. Things like this ticked away at his mind and tugged at his heart. He took risks telling Lisbon he loved her. He wouldn't let something else – or _someone_ else– ruin that for him. Ruin that for _her_.

Lisbon stopped in her tracks and turned to him, casting her eyes to the floor and then up to meet his. Nobody else was in the bullpen, working on their own cases, so it was just the two of them standing in the middle of the room staring at each other intently. Lisbon licked her lips and nodded her head slightly in response.

"Yes," she answered. "I know. I didn't _ask_ for them, Jane. He just sent them."

"You tried to lie to me about who sent them, Teresa. Honesty is a two-way street."

"Would you have reacted differently if I said they were from someone different?"

"I suppose not, but at least I know they didn't come from someone you slept with in the past, Teresa," he lowered his voice. "I am a man. It doesn't do well for me to see that kind of thing. You won't even let me do those things for you and we _are_ together."

Lisbon shook her head at him. "You know why we can't do those things, Jane."

"Teresa," he reached for her hand, not caring if anyone could walk in on them at any moment. "I would give you my very last dime if you needed it. I would pretty much die for you if given a choice. You think I care about who sees or who knows? I don't. I don't give a damn, and if that makes you feel vulnerable, then so be it."

Jane saw a glimmer of something behind her eyes. He wasn't sure what it was, but he felt it was shame or guilt. He put a hand on her cheek and caressed the skin of her jawline with his thumb.

"Hey," he told her softly. "I'm sorry if I upset you."

Just then, the elevator doors rattled, making Lisbon step away from Jane, whose hand fell limp to his side. He hated that she wouldn't admit that there was something going on with Mashburn. And, as good as Jane was at reading people, Lisbon always had this way of blocking him out. He had once called her transparent, but she was more murky opaque than transparent. He didn't understand why she continued to roll on with her lie, but chose not to press her. Besides, if it is one thing Jane can do, it is catch people living the lie. It was only a matter of time before he did. And when he did, he wouldn't hurt her or make her feel isolated. He'd question why she kept the lie, but he wouldn't scold her for it. Silent reproach and disappointment would wave from him and project onto her, and he would let her feel her own guilt, then.

"No," she replied, watching as an Agent exited the elevators. "It's fine. Listen, I have some work to do here tonight. Why don't you go home and rest? I'll be there as soon as I am done," she suggested, smiling at him.

"I can wait for you, Teresa," he replied. "We could go out to eat afterward and I can do that thing you like when we get home..." he whispered softly, his eyebrows going up.

There was hesitation as Lisbon shook her head. "No. Really. I think I need to get those depositions finished, Jane. But maybe tomorrow?"

Jane's smile faded and he looked at her for a moment before nodding his head at her.

"Tomorrow," he agreed. "I'll ask Cho for a ride home … leave the keys with you. I'll put them in your jacket pocket."

"Okay," she replied softly, a small smile growing across her face. "It's hanging on the chair in the break room."

There was no outward appearance of hurt from Jane, but on the inside, he felt it bubble like magma. It wasn't like Lisbon to blow off anything he suggested. At least, he thought, not since they had become lovers. Jane smiled a fake smile at her and watched her turn back to her desk to type her transcriptions of Mashburn's useless interview. He turned the opposite direction and walked into the break area off the lobby. Locating Lisbon's black jacket, Jane took the keys from his pocket, fumbled with them for a few seconds, and placed them in its pocket.

A noise caught Jane's attention as he was about to leave. Looking up, he saw the blond-haired Wylie fumbling in a cabinet.

"What are you looking for there, Wylie?" Jane asked, walking toward the young Agent. "You're making a lot of racket."

Wylie turned and was startled to see Jane standing there looking at him. It was if he didn't even realize he wasn't alone. Jane looked over Wylie's shoulder and saw that he was digging in it for cups, but the only one left in the cabinet was Jane's blue Fiesta-ware cup.

"Sorry, Jane," he replied, hastily reaching back and shutting the door to the cupboard. "I was looking for a clean coffee cup but...you know what?" he said, closing his eyes and shaking his head before opening them again. "It doesn't matter. Sorry for the noise."

Wylie made to pass him, but Jane reached out a hand and stopped the rookie Agent in his tracks. Wylie stopped and turned to Jane, a confused look etched on his pale skinned face.

"Wylie," Jane started quietly. "Do you think you could help me with something? I mean... something you can't tell anyone else."

Wylie shrugged his broad shoulders and nodded his head quickly. "Sure. What is it? Something illegal?"

Jane turned his head and latched his blue eyes on Lisbon, who was tapping away studiously on the keyboard in front of her. He didn't want to be the person he was about to become, but he didn't want anything to happen to her, either. If he couldn't get her to tell him what was going on, he would have to figure it out on his own. She stated she had depositions to do, but Jane knew very well that the depositions she was supposed to do wasn't needed until next week. He had heard Abbott tell Lisbon this yesterday, when Lisbon had started them. She must have thought he was asleep on his couch, but he was wide awake and listening.

"Oh," he heard Wylie exclaim softly, no doubt following his gaze to Lisbon.

Jane turned back to him and cleared his throat. Wylie gave him an awkward glance before making a gesture for Jane to explain what he wanted him to do.

"Not so much _illegal_," Jane responded stoically. "It's following a hunch. So, can you do it?"

"I can try," replied Wylie. "Tell me what you need."

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

The moon filtered in the empty bullpen as she stood, turned off her computer, and walked through the dark hallway to the locker area of the FBI. She sighed as she stood in front of her locker. Opening it, she took out the black mini dress that she had only worn once before, on a sting with Jane. It was kept in her locker at all times because Lisbon wasn't into such formal dresses that short. She was rather into comfortable dresses, and this one here hugged every single curve she had. She slipped off the cloth cover protecting it and dressed into it quickly, pulling out the matching pumps at the foot of the locker and putting them on before closing her locker and sighing once again.

She hated this. She hated sneaking around behind Jane's back and doing what she was doing with Mashburn. The only comfort she had was knowing that he would be gone once this was over. She wouldn't allow him to continue to pressure her in this way. She'd tell Abbott about all of this, and he would face that on his own if he insisted on anything more from her. The only reason she was doing this to begin with is because she wanted to close this case and give Senator Poole's family closure. If she told Abbott about any of this right away, Walter would deny it and close his mouth and they would never find the real killer. Mashburn had enough money to go far away for a long time and take his secrets with him.

Lisbon crossed back to the bullpen to pick her cell phone off her desk and head to the kitchen area to grab her jacket, which held her car keys inside. Lisbon felt her phone vibrate and glanced down at the screen, where a notification crossed the top of her screen caught her attention: _**THE CAR DOWNSTAIRS IS FOR YOU. WM **_

Lisbon rolled her eyes and proceeded to take the elevator down to the front of the FBI building and out the double glass doors that separated life in half for her. Sure enough, at the end of the long, winding drive, there was a black car with tinted windows, and a driver standing quietly near the rear door. Lisbon felt the nervousness creep into her again. This time, the nervousness was not that Jane would find out. It was that she was even doing this in the first place. It made her feel obscure. This was not the Lisbon she knew. This wasn't who she was. Why she was doing this felt stupid in retrospect, but she never backed down for getting justice, even if it meant unconventional ways. Jane had taught her that. To be good at what you do, you have to make or do things you rather not. It's how you recover afterward that counts.

Lisbon chewed on her lip as she headed for the car down the macadam. The moon was bright and shone on her like a spotlight. She stopped in front of the driver, who took her in and nodded his head. He turned, opened the door for her, and shut it again once she was safely inside the cab.

"You look stunning, Teresa," a voice called from the dark beside her. "I hope this is okay."

Lisbon jumped, her hand flying to her throat in surprise. She turned and squinted her eyes, trying to adjust her vision in the dark. Sure enough, once her eyes adapted to the blackness, she saw Walter Mashburn smiling that smile next to her.

"Goddamn it!" Lisbon exclaimed, dropping her hand from her throat. "You scared the crap out of me! Do you have any tact?"

"I'm sorry, Teresa," he responded softly. "I didn't mean to scare you. Are you ready to go?"

"Ready? Yes. Willing? Not really," she replied, turning her head from him. "You've given me little choice."

"I gave you an option. Teresa," he told her softly. "And I plan on telling you what I know at dinner tonight. I meant what I said. If you don't... if there is nothing left for you with me, I will leave."

"Let's just get this over with," said Lisbon, lurching forward as the car suddenly moved ahead.

Mashburn slipped his arm out to catch her from falling on the floor. Lisbon, startled at first, pushed his arm away and sat back in a huff. She could hear Mashburn's amused laugh as the car strode toward the restaurant. They didn't speak the entire time they winded the streets or stopped for traffic lights. There was a sense of hesitation in the air. Lisbon's, if she was being honest, was the hesitation that she was even doing this. Mashburn's, she suspected, was that he was basically blackmailing her. He still had some feelings for her, and he was wondering if doing this just to prove it was worth the risk.

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

"You do realize we could get in trouble for this?" Wylie told Jane, tapping on the keyboard from the darkness of the FBI bullpen. "I could get _fired_."

"Who is going to tell? Surely not me," Jane replied, pointing at the screen. "You sure it's working?"

Wylie tapped a few more keys and then raised the volume on the monitor. After a few seconds of silence, the could hear the conversation between Walter Mashburn and Lisbon. He had suspected this much, but the hunch coming true still stung into the heart of him. He leaned forward on the desk and placed a finger to his lips, tapping in slight anxiety.

"This feels like an evasion of privacy," Wylie commented, sighing heavily. "Are you into her or something? Not...not that that is any of _my_ business," he added hastily. "Sorry."

"I'm in love with her," Jane told him bluntly. "I can trust you to keep that between us?"

"Uh...yeah," Wylie replied, caught off-guard by Jane's honesty. "Does she know?"

"Course she does. We're together."

"Oh."

"You're wondering why she's on a date with Walter Mashburn, aren't you?" Jane smirked.

"Uh...yeah, I guess I am," Wylie acknowledged. "But it's for a sting, right?"

Jane was silent for a moment. Then: "Yeah. I guess you could call it that."

"_You look great tonight, Teresa,"_ Mashburn said through the microphone.

"_Let's just get this over with,"_ Lisbon replied, the audio cracking slightly.

"You're sure the microphone on her car keys will stay put?" Jane asked, turning to Wylie. "It's so small."

Wylie replied with a smile and nodded his head vigorously. "It's a pin microphone. The audio is good on it. It can pick up conversations through walls. Of course, it will."

"Good," Jane told him, smiling a small smile.

They could hear music in the background. It was muffled but soft and melancholy. Jane could hear the scraping of chairs and the crackling of the audio that told him Lisbon took her jacket off, with the microphone inside the pocket, and draped it over the back of her chair. Wylie was going to tell Jane something, but Mashburn spoke, and Jane held up a palm to quiet him.

"_You could smile a little, Teresa,"_ Mashburn told her. _"__I'm not that bad of company."_

"I disagree," Jane muttered under his breath. Wylie giggled and upped the volume, also doing something to lower the crackle of the audio interference.

"_I just want to get this over with,"_ Jane heard Lisbon say.

"_I just want you to give me a chance, Teresa,"_ Mashburn said.

"_You can start by telling me what you know,"_ Lisbon replied, clearing her throat.

"_Patience, Teresa. Patience."_

Jane leaned up and tilted his head in thought. What he _knew_? Did he hear that correctly? Is this what was going on? Mashburn was coercing her with information for... for whatever this was he was making her do. Jane's instincts wanted Wylie to locate Lisbon, but he decided he would listen in more. Perhaps he would gain something from this conversation between them. Lisbon was there to get the information that Jane suspected he wouldn't give otherwise. Clever bastard. _Clever, clever bastard._

"Is he always this brash?" Wylie asked, sending Jane from his thoughts. "He's very bold and straightforward."

"He's a narcissist. He's got to win the things he wants. Sore loser, I guess you can say," Jane replied. "I didn't mind it back then, but now...now I detest it used against Lisbon."

"Wait," Wylie turned to Jane and frowned. "This guy used to _date_ Lisbon? Our suspect _knows_ her?"

Jane scoffed. "She didn't date him. It's a long story. One that does not need to be repeated. And, yes, he knows her. Fairly intimately."

Whatever Wylie was going to reply with was interrupted by more talking on the other side of the microphone. Wylie turned back to the computer and listened with Jane as the conversation took another turn.

"_You are not going to control this situation, Walter. I am here because you threatened to confess to the murder, and then topped it off by saying you know the killer. You refused to be a normal human being and tell me unless I agreed to this. I want answers, and I want them now, or I go back and tell Abbott."_

Jane was proud of Lisbon in that moment, but also disappointed that she didn't do this to begin with. Lisbon was not the kind of woman to be pressed down and controlled in this way. Jane suspected that while Lisbon didn't have any feelings for Mashburn, she didn't want to bring her boss in on this unless she felt she couldn't handle it. It was Lisbon's motto for as long as he had known her. If she thought she could get the answers herself, she went with it. Jane could feel his fingers curl onto a fist on his knee as he sat there and listened to Mashburn's game. Walter was a full-fledged player and he was milking this. Jane couldn't help but go back to the fact Lisbon decided not to tell Walter about them. Walter, for all his grandeur, was thinking Lisbon was fair game for his own unresolved feelings toward her.

"_You would have done that by now, Teresa," _Walter replied knowingly. _"__But I do plan on telling you. I just wanted to show you what exactly you were missing all these years. We have a lot to catch up on."_

"_I don't think you understand how much I've changed, Walter. The things I wanted or needed I already have. I don't need to catch up with you. You're not my need or my want."_

The waiter came and took their orders, and the audio on the other end became silent for a moment before Mashburn spoke again, asking her if she wanted champagne. She refused, and Walter sighed audibly before slipping back into silence again.

"So, why are we spying on her again?" Wylie asked, reaching over and picking up the bag of Skittles he kept nearby. "I mean... I know you said a sting, but wouldn't Abbott know about this and want to be here for it?"

"We are not_ spying_! We are conducting an investigation. If you don't want to be hypnotized into thinking you are a frog, I suggest never mentioning this to Abbott, okay?" Jane said, reaching over and stealing a yellow Skittle and popping it in his mouth. "Or maybe you prefer to think you are a donkey?"

"You could do that?" Wylie squeaked out with concern.

"Want to test me?"

"An ass?"

"Yes."

"Cleared investigation it is, then," he agreed.

"_Tell me, Walter," _Lisbon broke the silence a few minutes later. _"__I'm here. That's what you wanted."_

"_Fine," _Walter finally agreed._ "__You drive a hard bargain."_

"Hmph!" Jane exclaimed. "Pay attention, Wylie."

"_The night of the Gala, I went there to speak to Mr. Poole about the land,"_ Walter started, his voice lowering considerably.

"_And you decided it was a great time to nail his wife?"_

Jane snickered at Lisbon's infliction. Going at Walter straightaway was a great tactic, he thought. It didn't give Walter's mind time to concoct different versions of his story. That wasn't to say he couldn't lie, just that he couldn't develop grand storylines quickly.

"_That wasn't part of the deal,"_ he replied, a smile in his voice. _"__She talked me into that before she talked me into going to his office with him."_

"_So you had sex and then she told you to take him upstairs to discuss the deal?"_

"_Gloria said that he used those offices for meetings before and that we would be able to discuss things without being interrupted."_

"_So it was her idea for you and Steven Poole to go up there? You didn't suggest it?"_

"_No, it was Gloria's idea. I took Steven upstairs."_

"_How long were you up there? Minutes?"_

"_About a few minutes, yes," _said Walter._ "__I get talking to him about the land, and I see him smile and go to say something. I see a flash of light and Steven is on the floor and I am being pushed into the next room. It was so fast. I fight and yell, but I get shoved and locked inside."_

"_Did you see anything? Hear anything? You told me you could point me in the direction of the killer."_

"_After dessert, I will tell you," _he told her. _"__I assure you that I can point you in the direction of who murdered that Senator... but I didn't say I saw or heard anything. And I didn't."_

Jane leaned forward and pointed to the computer screen, watching the audio spike as they talked. He thought of something. He and Cho had gone back to the crime scene a few days ago and Jane had raked the entire room. He had checked everything except the one spot that probably held a clue. It was such an inconspicuous spot.

"Cho and I need to go back to the crime scene tomorrow," Jane told Wylie. "I think we missed something."

"Missed what? We sent everything in that room to the crime lab, Jane."

"His last statement. Mashburn said he didn't see or hear anything before being pushed into the room."

"And?"

"We need to go back, Wylie. For now, let's keep listening to the conversation, okay?"

Wylie nodded his head and shrugged, turning back to the monitor. Mashburn and Lisbon had turned silent, the only sound was the shuffling of silverware and the clinking of glasses amongst the soft music in the background. Jane remained silent as Lisbon continued her controlled interrogation of Mashburn.

"_This guy you are seeing... do you love him?" _Mashburn asked her out of the blue.

"_Yes," _she said back without hesitation. _"__I do."_

"_And you're happy?"_

"_Happiest in years."_

Jane laughed at her inclusion of the word "years", which let Walter know that, yes, even he didn't make her happy. He was just convenient. He noticed Wylie chortle next to him and his love for Wylie grew. He'd remember this the next time he was giving gifts out to the team. Wylie would get the best. Maybe another _Tamagotchi_.

"_Are you really? Why would you feel the need to hide who he is from me? Unless..."_

Mashburn trailed off but didn't go any further.

"_I finished this __Crème_ _brûlée__, so please, if you don't mind, tell me what I want to know so I can leave."_

"_Okay," _he agreed._ "__I'll tell you."_

"_About time."_

"_If you tell me who you are dating, first. And the truth."_

"_You told me you would tell me if I did all this! Isn't this enough?"_

"_That's my deal. I want to know who I have to compete with. Tell me, or I don't tell you. And if you go to Abbott, I will just deny it all and you will have to explain yourself, Teresa."_

Lisbon was silent on the one end of the microphone and Jane was trying to contain the rage that coursed through him. Mashburn was playing a game with her and he didn't like it. But if when he went to the crime scene tomorrow, he would find the proof of his theory, and he would also put away Mashburn for perjury, blackmailing and intent to undermine a criminal investigation.

He would squash Walter Mashburn like a bug for this. Legally speaking.

"_Fine," _he heard Lisbon tell Walter. _"__I'll tell you."_

Jane felt his heart lurch in his chest. Finally, she would tell him how it was and he would back off knowing a match when he saw one. Jane felt Wylie shift uncomfortably beside him. He suspected Wylie didn't want to be in the middle of this, but there was no backing out now. Wylie nervously pawed in his bag of Skittles and pulled out a blue and red one, cringing at the taste combination.

"Stop chewing like that. I can't hear over your gnawing," Jane said to Wylie.

"It's stuck on my teeth!"

There was garbling coming from the audio as if Lisbon was shifting in her seat causing her jacket to sway which affected the microphone inside the pocket. It was as if they were speaking, but their voices sounded slow and demonic, and nothing could be made sense of.

"What happened? What's with the audio?" Jane asked. "Why's it doing that?"

Wylie, still running his tongue over his teeth, leaned forward and tapped a few buttons on the keyboard. Looking over his shoulder, Jane could still hear the faint demonic sounds of voices from the mic.

"She must have gotten the mic loose from the keys unknowingly and it fell from her pocket onto the floor," Wylie theorized. "Without being there, I can't actually say. It sounds like it was damaged, though. Maybe by the chair leg or her foot?"

"It came off her keys?" Jane asked, standing up and pacing behind Wylie. "You said it was a good mic!"

"Uh," Wylie put up his index finger. "I said it picked up audio very well. I didn't say it was the best mic."

"What did you attach it with?"

"Magnet. Nothing else works on metal keys, Jane."

"Damn it!"

"Sorry!"

"Can you clean up the audio? The one that sounds like it's from hell?"

"I can try, but it seems like there is too much interference. It'll take me a little bit to clean it."

Jane sighed heavily and looked at the monitor. He had no choice. "Do it."

"Ooookay!"

Wylie jabbed away at the computer as Jane pulled out his cell phone. Getting Cho on the line, Jane asked Cho of he could pick him up in the morning so they could head over to the crime scene. Once that was set, he hung up the phone and plopped on his couch. The plan was in motion.

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

Lisbon brought her chair further to the table and put her elbows on it, leaning forward. She decidedly had enough of Mashburn's shit. This was literally a big game to him, and she was going to play her part. She narrowed her green eyes at him and clicked her tongue. This click was not in impatience, but in sheer dislike for what he was running on her.

"I'll tell you if you give me what I want to know and it pans out," she explained. "That is my deal, Walter."

"That's not a fair deal," he complained.

"You're not a fair man!" she shot back. "You've changed. You're ruthless and conniving. You always had this cockiness to you. Way back then it was adorable...charming. Now it just pisses me off. It's a tool for you to get what you can't have otherwise."

"Ouch! That stings, Teresa. I just want more than what we had. If that makes me selfish, so be it," he laughed. "But, okay. If I tell you what I know, you have to tell me who this man is. His name, profession... does he makes billions like me... that kind of thing."

"You come in tomorrow and you give me a full statement," she went on without answering him. "You tell me what you know, sign the transcript, and I will tell you whatever you want. If you don't, I'll be sure to let the FBI know about all this. They'll believe a cop over a billionaire."

Mashburn chuckled. "Why not now?"

"I want to get home. Somebody is waiting for me."

The smile went off Mashburn's face and he became serious. "Fine. Tomorrow."

"Good. I'd like to go back to the FBI office, now."

Mashburn placed a finger in the air and asked the hostess for the check.

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

Wylie turned to Jane and gave him the bad news. The audio wasn't salvageable. It was too noisy to make out clear words. The only words Wylie could make out were _"changed"_ and _"transcript"_. Jane sighed and didn't bother to get up from the couch.

"What are we going to do now?" Wylie asked.

"Well," Jane started slowly. "We still can use what we heard. Mashburn mentioned that he didn't see or hear anything or anyone from behind him, right?"

"Yeah..."

"It's because the possible killer came from behind Walter, from the room they shoved him in. He couldn't see or hear them, but he could _feel_ them."

"Feel them? Like, their skin?" Wylie inquired, turning to power off his computer before standing to stretch his legs.

"Not exactly. Mrs. Poole was having an affair with Mashburn, and we know from tonight's recording that she is the one who told them to go upstairs to meet."

"I'm with you..."

"Well, Mrs. Poole is the only other person who knew they were there. Mrs. Poole had been to that building a lot of times, and she would have known how to get to the room Mashburn was locked in from another route. Most old offices have several ways in. She waited for Mashburn to take her husband up to the private offices where she knew nobody would be around, and made her move."

"Wait, are you saying the wife did it? She had an alibi. Plus, I am not sure an 115-pound woman could _do_ all that."

"Would you say that to Lisbon?" Jane mused.

Wylie's eyes went wide. "Not to her face," he muttered.

"It's a running theory. She could have had an accomplice. Or maybe the gun she used to shoot Steven was first used to get Mashburn into that room. I just don't have evidence to support that, yet. We have to wait on the fingerprint analysis to finish from the lab on the paperweight. We might not even get anything then."

"And her alibi?"

"We couldn't substantiate it. Lisbon and I didn't see her during the time she said she was in the Gala party. She could have had sex with Mashburn and then followed them up in the time frame she gave us easily and then slipped back into the party. Mrs. Poole could have came in through a different route, coming behind Mashburn, smashing her husband's head in using the paperweight and pushing Mashburn into that room and locking the door before shooting him in the chest after realizing Steven Poole was still alive."

"Or her accomplice shot him..." Wylie added thoughtfully.

"Could be."

"What's the evidence? Motive?"

"When I interviewed Gloria Poole, I touched her fur coat. She took offense to that and grabbed it back, but not before I felt a matted bit just near the hem at the fold. I thought it was just the way her coat was until Mashburn mentioned that he didn't see or hear anything."

"He felt the fur coat?"

"Yes! He felt the fur on the skin of his hands as he is grabbing and fighting."

"But there wasn't anything at the crime scene. You and Cho looked it over."

"I looked at the major part of the scene, yes. But the evidence, I suspect, is stuck in the door jamb of the room that held Walter."

Wylie thought for a minute before his face lit up with recognition. "Her coat got stuck in the door as she closed it!"

"Bingo. I'd bet you there is traces of Minx hairs still in the door."

"Wow!" Wylie replied. "I feel like Hitchcock! And the motive?"

"Greed. Her affair. She probably has life insurance policies galore on him. Does it matter?"

"I guess not. Think this Mashburn is involved?"

"Well, let's not leap that far. We still have to find the proof for Mrs. Poole. You need to go home, for now."

"Home?"

"Yes. Lisbon will be back any minute and we can't let her know we were listening in just yet. Oh, could you take me home first? Lisbon kind of has the keys."

Wylie rolled his eyes playfully but nodded his head. "I just hope she isn't mad when she finds out."

"Me, too, Wylie. Me, too."

"You won't tell her I helped right?" he asked, concerned.

Jane just laughed and stood, turning out his table lamp beside the couch, dimming the room on them both.

* * *

><p><strong>Hope you enjoyed it. Sorry for the delay. This chapter brought to you by <strong>_damnitjane**.**_

**Fun Fact: I was listening to _"Strong"_ by London Grammar the entire time I wrote this. Fitting, I think.**

**We do not own The Mentalist.**


	6. Falling Equal

FALLING EQUAL

Walter Mashburn's lawyer, Mark Stanley, re-entered the interrogation room nervously. Walter was still sitting at the table looking less than impressed at what had just gone down between himself and the FBI ten minutes beforehand.

Jane had told Abbott what he had heard on the recording device the night before. He didn't want to do it, but Abbott had refused to allow Cho and Jane to go back to the crime scene unless they provided him with a good reason to do so. Jane had told Abbott, but they did not tell Lisbon about listening in on her, and chose to leave it out of any dealings with his lawyer. Instead, they chose to use Jane's deduction of the Minx hairs as the excuse as to why they were charging Mashburn. Lisbon was none the wiser, and was only under the impression Jane figured out what went down with the evidence before Mashburn could blackmail her even more with it.

"Okay, Mr. Mashburn. Your bail has been paid and you will be formally released, but the FBI will be continuing to investigate Senator Steven Poole's murder, and, unfortunately, under your bail conditions, you won't be allowed to leave the state of Texas I am afraid."

Walter stood up, knocking the chair he had been sitting on off its legs and banging his hand down hard on the table."This is a joke, right? I can't stay here in Texas! I have places I need to _be!_ I have business that I need to take care of back in California."

"I'm sorry, Walter, but these are the terms of your bail conditions. Unfortunately, you withheld vital evidence in an important murder investigation involving a Senator, and now you are on record confessing all to an FBI Agent under interrogation. I'm sorry, but the FBI is not going to brush this sort of thing off gently this time. You _will_ be charged, I am afraid, sir."

Walter could feel his tolerance had run out with this little money grabbing fool sitting in front of him. "So what the hell are you still doing here, then? And why I am paying you thousands of dollars an hour if you can't even do you what your getting paid to do and get me off these jumped up charges? Our business is _done_."

Stanley gulped cautiously, knowing he was now facing a very angry, rich client and knew that it would be his job on the line if he lost a client like Walter Mashburn for his firm. He needed to do some damage control and fast. "Mr. Mashburn, I know-"

Unfortunately, Walter didn't allow the man to finish his sentence. "I said we are _done_, now leave. You're fired. _Get out_."

Stanley decided to do what Mashburn had asked. He could only expect that once Mr. Mashburn had calmed down, he would reconsider his imprudent actions. A few minutes later, the door to the interrogation room re-opened, and Lisbon entered, looking rather pleased with herself, Walter noticed.

"Didn't your lawyer tell you are now free to go?" she said.

Lisbon stood looking at Walter trying to gauge what his mood was now he had officially been charged with a criminal offense. She had wanted to teach Walter a lesson, yes, but she had _never_ wanted him to be arrested despite what he might have done. Mashburn was many things, but a felonious human being wasn't one of them.

"Yes, but I didn't want to leave till I got to say a proper goodbye to my favorite agent," Walter said with a hint of sarcasm lacing his voice. "I didn't get a chance last night at dinner when you practically ran out of on me." Walter glanced towards to the double sided mirror behind her, knowing full well a certain FBI consultant would no doubt be watching their exchange of words.

Lisbon rolled her eye skywards knowing Walter was trying to stir up trouble. "To be honest, Walter, there wasn't anything left to talk about, was there?" she replied, clicking her tongue.

"Well… now I have a criminal record thanks to your ex-psychic consultant."

Lisbon swallowed a little thickly, knowing if Jane hadn't worked out the Minx hair evidence on the door before Walter had confessed it, they wouldn't be able to charge him with holding evidence. Walter sighed, tired of the games between them, but managed to beam his normal confident smile on his face nevertheless.

"So... after all this business, I think I definitely deserve to know who the guy you are sleeping with is? Don't you Teresa?" he asked smugly.

Lisbon smiled sweetly back at Walter, leaning her hands on the cold flat surface of the table to lean a little closer to him. She lowered her voice so that only he could hear what she was saying.

"Okay, fine. If you really want to know who he is, I will tell you. The man I am with is… _Patrick. Patrick Jane_. Oh ….and for the record, Walter, I'm not just _sleeping _with him, I am in _love_ with him…"

With this, Lisbon watched the cocky smile drop completely off Walters face. She walked out of the door and didn't bother to look back at Mashburn again. She was just glad that she had told the truth about her relationship with Jane and they could try putting this whole Mashburn business finally behind them.

Walter Mashburn stormed from the FBI building feeling provoked, resentful and a little jealous. He wasn't sure if he was even more angry over the criminal record he was now facing, or the fact he had been played by his ex-lover and her new boyfriend. Even though a few years back Walter had found Jane highly entertaining, he'd always been cautious around the man. No matter how many law-enforcement agencies slapped a "consultant" sticker across the man, at the end of the day, Patrick Jane was _not_ a hero, he definitely was not a decent man, especially if reading the events of the last few years had proved anything to that fact. Leopards never changed their spots as Walter knew first hand. Besides, a woman like Teresa Lisbon deserved to be with someone who would appreciate her and give her everything she wanted. A man who would never treat her badly, and for many years that's exactly what Patrick Jane had done.

Maybe it was because Walter was not used to losing, not to anyone, but especially to the likes of a murdering ex-con man. But was this anger just about losing? All Walter Mashburn knew was that he had no Teresa Lisbon in his life or his bed and now he had a criminal record and that was all the result of one Patrick Jane.

Walter pulled out his cell and angrily swiped at the screen.

"Phillips. Yes, it's Walter. Listen, I have a job for you. I will send my private jet for you this afternoon. I'm currently in Austin, Texas. I'm going to have to stick around for a while till a can find a lawyer who can sort this mess out. Okay, good. I'll see you then."

He hung up the phone and marched to his waiting car, slamming the door as he entered. He'd show Patrick Jane what fighting dirty was. He had lots of money, time, and resources. Way more than Jane had.

*************  
>ONE WEEK LATER<p>

Philips arrived at the Waldorf hotel just after nine at night. He hated coming to these places. It was all over-priced fabricated luxury for the arrogantly rich and privilege. Phillips was a man in his early fifties, who was a simple man. Always had been. He had dedicated his whole life to his job and law enforcement career. His job had been all he ever cared for until he was let go by the CIA. The only time he really ventured into society these days was to do some undercover work for some rich, fat, under-skilled cat who needed something. This normally resulted in him doing something illegal.

Phillips started his career off as a police officer for the NYPD before he became a CIA AGENT for over seventeen years as an undercover surveillance agent. Unfortunately, the CIA had made him retire early in his forties after his annual medical exam uncovered a small heart murmur. Problem was, it wasn't easy for someone in Phillips's line of work to just stop being an agent. It was who he was. So, rather than enjoying his early retirement and taking up golf, he started offering out his knowledge and skills to others for a price. Normally, it was for people who would be prepared to pay _very_ good money for it. Risks were a big part of the work so the pay incentive had to be worth it.

Phillips had been "working" for Mashburn for years, mainly helping him get vital information and the power to take over smaller businesses. The elevator doors opened into a beautiful luxury apartment, decorated all creams and whites. Phillips stepped out noticing Walter was standing looking into an outdoor pool area. Walter turned to face him when he heard the noise from the elevators sliding doors.

"Phillips. Come in. Take a seat. Drink?" Mashburn offered him, motioning to the bar beside them.

"No thanks."

Phillips sat himself down on the plush white leather sofa facing the window and the view. He might not like these rich snobby hotel places, but that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy the spectacular views they offered.

"So, tell me you have some good news for me? It's been over a week now and time is indispensable with this, Phillips."

"I think I have something you may be interested in." Phillips smiled a thin smile.

"Okay, so why don't you tell me what you have and I will tell you if it's what I want?" Walter smiled over his glass whilst taking a large sip. With this, Phillips pulled a small black notebook from his inside jacket pocket. It might be a new digital era, but he was still old school where it counted.

"Okay. Well, I've been surveilling them both twenty-four-seven for the last week. At work.. away on cases... at their homes. I put surveillance listening devices in her car and in her home. I've even tapped their cell phones. Plus, I've installed a tiny surveillance camera in her living room, too."

Walter raised an eyebrow, clearly curious at where there was a need for a camera, but didn't press Phillips on that matter and let him continue.

"They are a couple and seem to be in love. They are sexually active. Very, in fact. He convinced her to play some kinky sex game the other night, and things heated up pretty quickly, let me tell you. So much so that my listening device under the kitchen island was dislodged and, unfortunately, I've now lost the device and the transmission feed…"

Phillips chuckled to himself, remembering having to listen to that certain chain of events, but quickly stopped when he caught Walter glaring over at him. Walter shifted in the white leather armchair, annoyed at having to listen to an in-depth synopsis on their new sex life, especially as he now had an image of Teresa being sexual with Patrick Jane. It made it a hundred times worse as Walter could imagine exactly how Teresa liked it and how he could see Teresa like that, due to their own previous sexual liaison. Phillips chose to ignore Walter's annoyed look and continued on.

"… they are pretending to be just colleagues at work, though they are not hiding it very well, in my opinion…." Phillips flicked through his little notebook trying to see if he had missed any info he thought Walter might want to know, but Walter cut in.

"What about Patrick Jane?" Walter asked. "He's my main interest, at the moment."

"Well… There's not much to tell that you don't already know. I haven't put any surveillance on his trailer. With the skills you said he has and his background, he would probably notice something was amiss. He works at the FBI as a consultant and when he's not at work he spends most of his time at her place. They were out for a few romantic dinner dates this last week. He has now gone out of the country working on a special case with just his boss, Abbott, for the time being. To be honest, there's not much to tell about this guy and they seem pretty tight as a couple in love."

This was _not _what Walter had wanted to hear. With bitterness, he snapped, "Every couple has a weak spot, Phillips… "

Walter was now becoming pissed off that he had paid out a lot of money for trivial stuff that was no good to him at getting what he wanted. And what he wanted was to get Teresa Lisbon away from Patrick Jane and win her back.

Phillips closed his notebook and sat back to get more comfy in his own chair, knowing he had one or two more tricks up his sleeve.

"Well, I've been doing this type of job for years now and I have always found late night pillow talk between couples is great for giving away secrets. Like, this Jane guy keeps joking about his dream of sailing around the world. He wants them both to leave the FBI. He is scared he is going lose her or that she will get hurt or killed, so that's fairly interesting…"

Unfortunately, Walter did not agree. "That's _it_? You're telling me that there is not a goddamn thing I can use against Patrick Jane or anything worth knowing on their relationship apart his from fear of losing her?"

"Well, I haven't quite finished… One of my close contacts at the FBI managed to access a highly secretive file they have on Patrick Jane and sent me copies yesterday. As it turns out, after Jane killed this McAllister guy and went on the run, the FBI legally obtained all his property. His vehicles, money, savings and bank accounts. All except for one: an overseas account. They couldn't get the proper documents due to international laws being on Jane's side, despite the murder charges held against him."

"And…? "

"…turns out, this Patrick Jane withdrew a _large_ sum of money two days before he killed this McAllister guy. Before that, he hadn't touched the bank account for over a decade."

"Are you heading somewhere with all this, Phillips?"

Walter was starting to lose his patience. He didn't see how Patrick Jane finances would help him get him a chance to get back at Jane or win back Teresa. With this, Phillips sat forward, handing Walter some papers he had pulled out of his inside jacket pocket. Walter snatched up the papers and scanned his eyes downward on the pages. Walter eyes eventually widened when he realized what he was looking at. Walter looked back up sharply, clearly in shock.

"Are you telling me that ex-psychic fraud has nearly… _eight million_ sitting in a bank account and he hasn't touched it in over thirteen years?"

Phillips smiled knowing he had finally delivered the goods that Walter wanted and was no doubt in for a nice bonus if it panned out to be something Walter could use to his benefit.

"Yes, this Jane guy was earning big money back as a fake psychic and doing pretty well before his family were murdered. After they were killed, he just stopped using it and it has just been left alone gathering interest over the years. Though, he did withdraw a hundred thousand dollars two years ago, around the same time he went on the run. Apart from that, there has been no other activity. Not even when he returned to the U.S. six months ago."

"Does Teresa know?" Walter asked a little fevered and eager.

"I doubt it. He was trying to convince her to travel across country in his trailer the other day. She asked him what they would do for money and he said they would become fruit pickers. That doesn't sound like a woman who knows her boyfriend has eight million sitting in the bank. Does it?"

Walter narrowed his eyes looking past Phillips in deep thought, a small smug smile slowly creeping across his face. "Can you get access to Jane's overseas account?"

"Uh… yeah, I should be able to. It's only a small bank in the Cayman Islands, and I know a guy who could easily gain access. It might take a day or two, though. Why?"

"Well, like you said, Patrick hasn't accessed this bank account for a while and I think it's about time he did… Don't you?" Walter beamed a wicked smile.

"You're gonna steal his money?"

Walter chuckled thickly at Phillips ridiculous accusation. "No, man. I have my own money. I don't need Patrick Jane's pocket change. More like, I'm just going to help him spend it. In fact, we are going to make Patrick's life-long dream become a reality. Come on. Let's grab some dinner and discuss what we are going do next, shall we, Phillips?"

Walter sprung up from his chair, clearly happy with the information he had been given. Phillips pulled himself up following Walter out the room. He had no idea what Walter was going to have him do next, but as long as his payment fees were met and he got given an added extra bonus for his troubles, then Phillips was a man that could make _anything_ happen. Phillips learned a long time ago that money was power and Walter Mashburn had a lot of power.

***********************************  
>THREE DAYS LATER<p>

It had been two days since Jane and Abbott had headed down to Mexico for a secret CIA case. Jane had called Lisbon when he first arrived to tell her they were headed out to a location where digital contact was going to be very limited. He hadn't gone into what they were actually up to, and if she was honest, she rather not know. Lisbon could only hope that whatever it was, it wasn't anything too dangerous or that Jane wasn't getting them in too much trouble.

Two days later, she was awoken by an early text message from an unknown cell number with the words **'I love u I miss u I will see u in two days. U no hoo x.'** It had made all the difference to her knowing that Jane was okay and that he was planning on coming home to her.

Lisbon arrived earlier at work that morning due to her not being distracted or tempted by a certain gorgeous blonde consultant lying in her bed. Wylie was already sitting at his desk talking on the phone. Lisbon sat her bag down and switched her computer on when she noticed Wylie had turned around in his chair to face her whilst still on the phone.

"Actually, if you hold the line, I can pass you over to his… I mean... I can pass you to someone who may have better knowledge than me." Wylie cupped the end of the phone so he could talk to Lisbon more privately.

"Agent Lisbon, I have a shipping company on the phone looking for Jane."

Wylie was looking a little lost and confused. Lisbon smiled sweetly, taking pity on him, and told him to transfer the call to her extension line. Lisbon had years of experience dealing with Jane's random antics and their even weirder outcomes.

"Hello, this Agent Lisbon. Mr. Jane is unavailable at the moment. Can I help you at all?"

"Hi. Yes, my name is Jacob Billing. I am calling from _Ocean Atlantic Shipping company_. We urgently need to speak to Mr. Jane. We have tried calling his cell and left several messages for him in the last three days, but we have had no luck contacting him so far."

"Mr. Jane is out of the country. Is there a message I can take for him?" Lisbon asked, slightly bewildered at what Jane was getting up to now.

"Yes, ma'am. If you could take a message that would be great. Please ask Mr. Jane to contact us immediately. If you could tell him there will be a small hold up with his order as we need confirmation of the names and we can't proceed forward until we have the correct spellings."

"Correct spellings? For _what_ exactly?" Lisbon was confused as to what this guy was now talking about.

"Ah, well, Mr. Jane has ordered a _Mulder Voyager 94_ and at the time of his order, Mr. Jane wasn't sure whether to call it _Angela Charlotte_ or _Charlotte Angela_, we just need clarification on his final decision."

To hear this complete stranger of a man speak of Jane's late wife and daughter was a total shock to Lisbon. Not even Jane himself had mentioned his family much to her, even though they had been in a serious relationship now for two months. It was still a very hard subject for him to discuss, so having this total stranger bring up their names so casually felt so odd and alien to Lisbon.

"A _Mulder Voyager_? And what is one of those when it's at home?" In Lisbon's head, she was now imagining a new silver trailer. Maybe Jane was trading in the one the FBI got him for a bigger one.

"It's a boat. A beautiful luxury Yacht, in fact. Very popular these days with the rich and famous. Tom Selleck has one in fact…"

"Does he?" Lisbon rolled her eyes at the salesman pitch trying to impress her. "Look, Mr. Billing, I think there's been a mistake, Jane, I mean Mr. Jane... he doesn't _own_ a boat."

"Oh… Oh. I have this number as his current employer contact. Uh… I think it's best if you could just pass on a message for me anyway, and ask Mr. Jane to contact us on his immediate return, we would be very grateful."

"Ok…. will do..."

Lisbon slowly placed the phone down feeling confused. Was this boat for a case? Another con? Had Jane set up some sting involving a luxury yacht? But something just didn't sit right. Lisbon knew Jane would never use his wife or child's names in a con or sting. It wasn't his style. Had Jane _really_ bought a boat? Lisbon sat at her desk thinking back to the conversation with Jane telling her his dream about them sailing around the world. At the time, she hadn't taken his suggestion very seriously. Plus, where would Jane get the money to buy a luxury boat?

Lisbon glanced over to Wylie, who was now fully engrossed in some cryptic digital program he was working on.

"Hey Wylie... I was wondering if you could get me some info if you have the time?"

"Sure, no problem. I can finish this later, what can I get for you?"

"Can you get me any details on the _Ocean Atlantic Shipping company_?"

"Uh… yeah, sure… Anything in particular you need?" Wylie was intrigued at Lisbon's odd request but didn't push her on why she wanted it.

"Hmm... Everything you can get if that's possible." Lisbon knew she was being very vague, but she wasn't even sure what she was trying to look for herself. It was more about a gut feeling.

"No problem. I will see what I can find."

"Thank you, Wylie."

Later that night, Lisbon sat at her kitchen table looking at financial papers for the shipping yard. Wylie had also found out for her that the _Ocean Atlantic Shipping_ had never had any dealing with the FBI or the CIA. They weren't currently being investigated or ever had been. They were, on the surface, a respectable boating yard who sold and made boats and by the looks of their financial records, Jacob billing had been Selleck _had_ in fact brought a boat from them four months ago, and so had one Patrick Jane. The financial records showed that Jane had paid them a large deposit of two and a half million only three weeks ago.

Lisbon kept staring at the statement. Jane was due back in Texas in two days, and she could ask him about it then. There had to be an innocent explanation for all of this. There was _no way_ Jane had this sort of money. The FBI had taken all he had when he went on the run two years ago, and now he was FBI Consultant living in a trailer? Plus, Jane wouldn't buy a boat without telling her. They had agreed there would be no more secrets between them. He would have told her... Wouldn't he?

Lisbon's head was now spinning with tons of questions, along with some of her own fears and insecurities thrown in too. She finally decided to call it a night. She got up from the table, placing her empty glass into the dishwasher. It had been a long, confusing day and she knew she would get no clear answers until Jane returned. As Lisbon lifted up the door of the dishwasher, she noticed a small dark piece of broken plastic lying on the floor, she picked it up and held it to the light to get a better look. She wasn't sure what it was, so in the end she just placed it in the trash can before she switched off the kitchen light and headed off down the hall to bed.

This would be the third night this week that she had not slept in Jane's arms, and she found herself missing his touch so bad it hurt. Only two more days and Jane would be back home. She could ask him about all this boat business later and feel herself back in his arms once again where she belonged.

* * *

><p><strong>Enjoy!<strong>

**This chapter brought to you by brooklyn79.**

**We don't own The Mentalist or anything related.**


	7. Falling Facades

FALLING FACADE

His fingertips stretched out in search of bare skin. Finding her in the dark, he gently pushed her to him and wrapped his arms around her tightly. He had missed her so much the last few days he and Abbott were out of Texas. The nights in the motel bed were agonizingly lonely and cold. He pressed his warm lips to her temple and pressed a cheek into her hair. She breathed softly in her slumber, her arms automatically stretching across his bare chest in an unconscious habit.

"I love you," he whispered.

They had made love tenderly and slowly, reveling in the exploration of each other as if being apart had changed parts of them. It was as if road maps had been drawn on their skins and their fingers were cars, finding the routes and passages all over again to places left alone in the days they were apart. He had led her to the bedroom by the hand and showed her just how lonely he was without her. She had willingly cooperated, her own need matching his in degree and pace. He hadn't liked lying to Teresa, though. His excuse for charging Mashburn was eating at him. But he thought telling her the truth would do more damage than good. He can still remember his conversation with Abbott.

Abbott has refused to allow Jane and Cho to go back to the crime scene without a reason, citing that they had already combed over the scene and he didn't know what else they could possibly find there. When Jane had explained his theory to Dennis, he was naturally curious to know just how Jane figured out that Mashburn had felt the Minx fur on his skin the night of the murder. Jane had explained to Abbott that he had Wylie keep tabs on Mashburn by planting a bug. Jane failed to mention that Lisbon was there because Mashburn was blackmailing her. Abbott would be better off not knowing. Abbott, however, had agreed not to disclose the listening bug to Mashburn's lawyer or Lisbon. Jane's deductions were enough to make sure nobody sniffed around.

Jane had gone to the crime scene, where, sure enough, there were microscopic Minx hairs stuck in the door. It was enough to bring in Mashburn and charge him for withholding information, and to bring in Gloria Poole once more when the analysis of the hairs confirmed their origin. They still had to wait on the report on the hairs, but they expected that any day now. Until the report actually confirmed Jane's suspicions, Gloria Poole was not in their interrogation room yet.

He turned his fingers so they interlocked with hers and squeezed gently. He didn't want to ask her about why she did what she did with Mashburn. What good would it do? What would it accomplish? He knew she was only doing it for the information he held, but it did hurt a little. Jane knew all about that feeling. After all, he had done it to Lisbon with Lorelei. Even if the circumstances were a little different, he used Lorelei in much the same way Lisbon had used Mashburn. He surmised that the hurt he felt now was what she had felt when all he could see was Lorelei and the use she held. He didn't want Lisbon to feel like he didn't trust her. The conversation between her and Mashburn had proved her love for him, and he didn't need anything else. He just wished she had told him about it. He'd have understood. He was proud, however, that she finally revealed to Mashburn that they were not only making love in her bed, but she was in love with him. It made him swell with pride. Chalk it up to his testosterone. Whatever was causing it, he was enjoying it. Enjoying Lisbon.

"I missed you," she whispered, slicing through his thoughts like a knife. "So much."

He smiled and slid his hand from her fingers to bare hip under the sheets. She reacted to his touch with a little squirm and a murmur of pleasure. His fingers drew lazy circles on her warm, curved flesh.

"I missed you, too," he told her. "My bed wasn't the same. It felt cold and strange."

"Here, too," she replied sleepily. "I'm glad you're back, Jane."

He hesitated but decided it sounded neutral, so went ahead. "I'm sorry about Mashburn."

She sighed deeply and folded her hand on his chest. "Why? He did it to himself," she told him, her voice thick with sleep. "He's been across that table before. He knew holding back would bite him."

"Do—do you think he would have come clean?" Jane asked, hoping he didn't dig himself a hole. "Would he have told us?"

She yawned and shrugged against his arm. "You're the Mentalist, Jane. My guess is not unless he got something in return. You know how cocky he is."

"Yes," he agreed. "I _do_."

"Jane?"

"Hmm?"

"If you were planning something, you'd tell me, right?" she asked, shifting so that his hand fell to her bare belly. "You'd consult with me?"

"Always..." he trailed off, pressing his palm against her navel. "Why? I don't have any schemes up my sleeve, Teresa. Mashburn got himself into this."

"That's not—never mind," she told him.

He let it go but felt she wanted to say more. She fell silent and he could hear the soft breathing under his hand. Planning something? Did she know about Mashburn and his plan to dismantle the rich twerp? He doubted it. Something didn't sound right about her question, but he couldn't dwell on that. He had a murderer to catch. He had a plan in motion, but he'd need help in setting it on its final flight.

He sighed heavily and closed his eyes. Wrapped in the warmth of Teresa Lisbon's nude body against him, he fell off in the best night's sleep in days.

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

The next morning, Cho set a folder beside Jane on his couch and stood with his arms crossed, his stoic face watching as Jane opened it and scanned the documents inside. After flipping several pages, Jane smiled and licked his lips. The report had come in from the analysis of the fur found in the door at the crime scene. It was a match to Gloria Poole's coat.

"I thought that would make you smile," Cho told him, grabbing the file back from Jane. "Abbott says we can bring her in, now. It'll be an hour or so. She's at some kind of kiss-ass function. She was pretty pissed when we got a warrant for the coat. She didn't want it bagged and tagged."

"Poor her. Do we have an exact height for Gloria Poole, Cho?"

"Yeah," Cho told him. "File says five-foot-four. Why?"

"I..."

"Never mind," Cho said, walking away. "I know better to ask questions."

Jane watched Cho walk toward the elevators as he rose and started for Abbott's office. He passed Lisbon's desk and was passing Wylie's when the computer tech stopped him.

"Jane," Wylie called out. "Did you ever get that sorted out?"

The agent turned in his chair and looked expectantly at Jane.

"Get what sorted out?"

"Oh... uh... didn't Lisbon tell you that some company called here looking for you?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. "Some kind of shipping company?"

"No," he told him. "She didn't."

Wylie made a face like he just messed up big time and turned back to his computer. Jane stood there for a few seconds before continuing on his way to Abbott's office. Shipping company? What the hell was that about? Why didn't Lisbon tell him? He'd ask her about it later, but for right now, he had things to get going. He knocked on Abbott's door with his knuckle.

"Jane," Abbott greeted him. "I heard the good news. Your suspicions were correct. Gloria Poole is going to need to explain a few things."

"About that..." Jane trailed off. "We need to go back to the scene one more time."

Abbott looked up from his paperwork he was filling out and narrowed his eyes. "Why? We've been there way more than we should have been already. We have the fur analysis. What more is there to this?"

"Uh, if you come with me to the crime scene, I can fill you in," he said, circling his finger in the air. "We'll need Wylie and Lisbon, too."

"They don't pay me enough to deal with you," Abbott said, setting down his pen and sighing. "I feel like a sideshow to your magic act."

"Not a bad description," Jane laughed. "Come on, Dennis. It'll be illuminating. I promise."

"I need a raise," replied Abbott, shaking his head. "You better have something good."

"Oh, I do."

Half an hour later, Abbott, Jane, Wylie and Lisbon shuffled back into the room where Steven Poole had lost his life. There was still a puddle of crimson staining the fine Persian carpet, but everything else had been cleaned and cleared away. They stood around waiting for Jane to tell them what to do.

"Okay, Jane," Lisbon said. "What are we doing here? We have Gloria Poole on her way to the FBI. So why are we standing around at the scene?"

Jane looked at Wylie and turned him around so that he was facing away from Jane and pulled Lisbon gently by the elbow so that she was facing Wylie.

"Jane, what are you doing?" Lisbon asked, looking back at Jane. "What is this?"

"Mashburn claims he was facing Senator Poole, right?"

"Yes," Abbott answered. "According to his interrogation transcript."

"And Mrs. Poole is about the size and weight of Lisbon, yes?" Jane asked.

"I suppose," Abbott answered. "Where is this going?"

Jane watched Abbott check his watch and turn his attention back to him. He shook his head. Sometimes he wondered how Abbott passed his certifications. It was such an easy thing, but none of the agents ever deduced these things until it was too late. Sure, they figured it out _eventually_...

"I wonder how you ever got this far, Dennis," he shook his head. "Lisbon, can you mimic hitting Wylie over the head with a heavy paperweight, please?"

Lisbon shrugged her shoulder. She barely even flinched when he asked her to do weird crap like this anymore. She lifted her hands high above her head. Jane came behind her and put his leg between hers, effectively turning her slightly in an angle. He reached up and pulled her hands down a little.

"Okay, Lisbon," he said, stepping back and walking in between them, his back to Lisbon. "Bring it down and try hitting Wylie on the left side of his head."

Lisbon brought her hands down as if she were holding a paperweight, bringing her hands down until the bottom of them touched the top of Jane's head. There was no way she could get the paperweight over Jane, who was shorter than Mashburn.

"You're too tall," she said, lowering her hands. "There is no way Gloria could have gotten the paperweight over Mashburn to hit her husband in the head. There is no physical way."

"Exactly!" Jane said, turning back to Lisbon. "Gloria would have been too short to reach a heavy paperweight over Mashburn's head and hit her husband with it. It is impossible. She's exactly Lisbon's height."

"So... is Walter Mashburn lying in his transcript?" Abbott asked. "He said he felt the fur, Jane. I know you have a theory. Come on, Jane. Let's hear it."

"He may be an arrogant jerk, but I don't think he was lying," Jane responded. "According to his transcript, he said he saw a flash of light and then felt himself being pushed into this room here," he pointed behind Abbott to the room they found him in. "He said he couldn't see anything so he started grabbing into the air and felt fur."

"So... what does that mean?" Abbott asked.

"I'm working on that," Jane admitted. "Working theory..."

Jane walked over to the desk behind Wylie and stood there for a few seconds. He turned around with his finger tap-tap-tapping against his lip. He was thinking, Lisbon knew. He turned back to the desk and pointed to the corner.

"There was a dustless corner when we were here the night it happened. I remember seeing it. I also remember the paperweight being under the desk when I found it, which means someone simply dropped it, and it rolled under there."

"And? She could have easily dropped it," Wylie said. "I mean, it would have been heavy, so she'd have to drop it when she hit him."

"Right," Jane said. "But if she had been _behind _Mashburn and dropped it, it wouldn't have landed where it did. It would have been out in the _open_, most likely near or under the body. Whoever hit Poole with it was standing right in front of him or to the side of him, facing him, and had to be at least six-foot tall. They hit him with the paperweight shaped like Texas, it dropped, and then rolled under the desk."

"Gloria Poole was too short to even _hit_ him in the forehead. She's five-foot-four, same as I am. She'd have hit him lower on the face. Plus, that paperweight was way too heavy for her to hold above her head for long and gain momentum enough to strike him enough to kill him," Lisbon added.

"What about the Minx hairs you found in the door?" Wylie asked, crossing his arms in thought. "It matches her coat. How do you explain that away?'

"Yeah," Lisbon agreed. "She didn't let that coat out of her sight the entire night. How_ did _her coat fibers end up in the crime scene?"

"If you were to match her coat up to where the hairs were stuck, would it match height wise?" Jane questioned. "Lisbon, stand near the door, there."

Lisbon walked over and stood next to the door. Jane pointed to a small 'X' made by the guys that collected the hairs. The hairs didn't match up to where the patch of matted fur was on Gloria's coat at her height. Someone taller had left those hairs.

"It would be easy for someone to grab a handful without her noticing," Abbott said. "My wife owns a few, and those things shed like dogs. It wouldn't be hard for them to get transferred to Mashburn's clothing after he had sex with her and then get some lodged in the door as he is being shoved inside, either."

"And the gunshot?"

"That's an interesting take, too. Oh, it's so good!" He clapped his hands together.

"You think Gloria is _innocent_?" Lisbon asked Jane. "She has motive, time and wasn't around during the time she says she was at the Gala."

"I didn't say that," Jane smiled. "We should get back. Gloria should be arriving about now. Cho is probably about to break things stuck in the interrogation with her."

"Jane..." Lisbon sighed.

Wylie looked confused and Abbott looked irritated.

"This is getting exciting!" he told them, walking out of the room and leaving the three of them to look at each other in silence.

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

The interrogation room was silent as Gloria Poole sat there in her Couture dress, her gloved hands resting on her lap. Cho was staring at her intently, making her uncomfortable with his stoic face and lack of smile or desire to talk. The open folder in front of him served no purpose other than to tell her they had more questions for her. She cleared her throat and leaned forward.

"Uh," she started, "is the blonde guy coming back?"

"Why? Am I not amusing you?" Cho asked, not missing a beat.

"You're staring at me strangely. It's uncomfortable."

"I am so sorry, ma'am. I was under the impression you were a murder suspect. My mistake," he told her. "As for 'the blonde guy', he'll be with you shortly."

As if to cue Jane, Cho looked at the glass interrogation door just as Jane and Lisbon came strolling through it, Gloria's coat folded over Jane's arm.

"Sorry we're late, Cho," Jane told him. "Had to stop by the lab up to pick up her bear coat."

"It is a Mink!" she protested. "Specially made by the _Minx _company. Not a bear coat!"

"Whatever."

Lisbon chuckled as Cho stood and nodded to Jane before exiting. Jane and Lisbon sat down across from Gloria for the third time. Jane took her coat and unfolded it, spreading it out between them on the table.

"I want to draw your attention to the spot of fur at the fold here," Jane told her, pointing to the hem where the matted fur was located. "It's matted down here."

Horror crept across Poole's face as she followed Jane's finger to the mat. Her eyes scanned the spot where the fur was pushed together in a heap and gasped. Lisbon looked at Jane who continued to read Gloria's reaction.

"I—I don't know how that happened! That's at _least_ a few thousand dollars in repairs! It's hand-looped fur!" Gloria whined, touching the mat with her fingers.

"We found some of the hairs at the crime scene, Gloria," Lisbon told her. "The Lab says it is a match for _your_ coat. Any ideas how it got up there?"

"I have no idea! I didn't do this to my _own _coat!" she cried.

"You told us in your first interview that you didn't hand your coat over to the coat checkers because you didn't trust them," Jane told her, sitting back in his seat. "You admitted that you wore the coat during the Gala. So, how did your coat fibers end up in a room with your dead husband?"

"I told you that I _don't know_! I had it on the entire night!"

"Even during sex with Walter Mashburn? You didn't remove it then?" Lisbon badgered her. "That's awfully reckless for such an expensive coat. You know how messy it can be..."

Jane glanced at Lisbon sideways but maintained his serious posture. He leaned forward and pressed a fingertip to the folder in front of him. He scanned the page and looked up at Gloria with curious eyes.

"Gloria, did you give your coat to anyone you could trust? As Agent Lisbon just said, you had to have taken it off during your interlude with Mashburn. This isn't the nineteen-eighties where you make love on a bear rug...sorry," he said, holding up his hand at her protest. "Minx rug."

Gloria started to shake her head but stopped. "Actually, yes. There _was _someone I handed it to for that time," she replied.

Jane smiled widely. "Bingo, Lisbon."

"Bingo?"

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

With his plan in motion, Jane sat back in the silence of the FBI bullpen and sighed. Everyone had gone home except for Lisbon, who really had to do those depositions she said she had to do a while ago, but went on her excursion with Mashburn. He watched her head moving as she typed them on her computer. The only light in the entire room was from her desk lamp, which she had focused on her keyboard as she tap-tap-tapped away. He enjoyed it when it was just him and her. He loved that he could be open with her and not have to hide his love.

His gaze fell past her and lingered over to Wylie's empty desk, which reminded him of the question he had posed to Jane this morning. Some kind of shipping company had called for him? Lisbon didn't tell him about that. It wasn't like her to forget. He stood and walked behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders and squeezing.

"Mmm," she murmured, rolling her neck to the right. "You have no idea how good this feels."

"We have a big day tomorrow," Jane told her. "I think you are entitled to one of these. You know how I get when we get catch a killer."

She chuckled. "I've seen a few, yes."

"Wylie told me a shipping company called for me while I was in Mexico with Abbott," he said, casually slipping it in. "He asked if you had told me yet."

Lisbon stopped typing and turned her chair so she was facing him, her gaze finding his. It was clear that she didn't plan on telling him yet. He wasn't sure what to make of it. It was just a shipping company, right? It was probably a mistake. No big deal.

"They called a few days ago," she started, licking her lips. "I thought it was a mistake. I mean, it has to be."

"What kind of mistake, Lisbon?" he asked, running his fingers through her hair at her shoulder.

"Well, they claim you dropped nearly three million dollars on something called a _Mulder Voyager_," she told him.

"A luxury yacht?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"A yacht?" Jane repeated.

"Yeah." Lisbon looked confused. "They said that you were undecided about the names. They said you gave them _Charlotte Angela _or _Angela Charlotte_, and needed one or the other to process it."

Jane was silent, his fingers falling limp to his sides. She hadn't thought about the names the shipping company gave her. Who else would know or use those names? Suddenly, there was a pit in her stomach. She hadn't really thought much on it, but looking at his face, something wasn't right.

"You didn't! Tell me you_ didn't!" _Lisbon exclaimed, standing up to face him, her arms crossing against her chest. "Jane. You don't even have that kind of money! The FBI took it all... _right_?"

"I would never use their names on anything! _Anything_! I didn't order it, Teresa. The fact you think I did is really hurtful. I would _never_ do that to them. You know that."

"Why are you not saying the ludicrous amount of money is money you don't have, Jane? What are you hiding from me?"

"I am not hiding anything, Teresa. I was never asked about it, that's all," he replied.

As far as he was concerned, he had two options: he could have lied to her and told her nothing, or he could tell her about his hidden money and hope to hell she didn't find fault with him withholding it from her. After all, he had that account for years. She didn't need to know about it then, and far less so now, he thought. He was also thinking about how to get the information from the shipping company when he called them tomorrow to cancel this boat he never ordered. Something told him that someone was playing games with him. He was pretty sure he knew exactly who it was. When he got the evidence he needed to confirm it, he was going to nail his ass to that proverbial wall.

"How do I know that you _didn't _order that... that... Scully or Mulder or whatever, now? You kept a secret account worth millions from me and the FBI? Really, Jane?"

He could see she was upset. This is what she had meant when she had started to ask him if he'd tell her if he were planning something. This was eating at her that he could actually be going under her nose and disobeying her wish to not leave Law Enforcement and go sailing or whatever ridiculous thing he had suggested.

"It was there before I even met you, Lisbon. I didn't do this! I promise you. Trust me, please, Teresa," he pleaded, placing a hand on her hip and the other under her chin, raising her eyes to look at him.

"Isn't trust supposed to be_ earned_?" she replied irritably. "You didn't _tell _me. That's the point!"

"We all have our secrets, Teresa," he told her softly. "Don't we?"

"What does that mean?" she asked him, reaching up to push his hand away from her chin. "I don't have secrets from you, Jane."

"Really? You're going to _lie_ to me, now? You are angry at me for not telling you about that account, but here you stand lying to me and not telling me about _your _dirty little secret, Teresa."

He hated what was coming out of his mouth. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her, but accusing him of the very same thing she was doing wasn't going to get them anywhere. He hadn't planned on bringing it up to her, but proving a point to her seemed like the only good thing he could do to quell her anger... at least he hoped.

"What are you talking about, Jane?"

He sighed, grabbed her gently by the hand and led her to Wylie's desk. Flicking on the desk lamp, he let go of her hand and leaned over. After a few moments fiddling with Wylie's computer, Jane pointed to it and stood back to cross his arms across his chest.

"What?"

"Listen."

Lisbon waited a few moments before a crackling of audio flowed through the stereo speakers on either side of Wylie's computer. She winced at the interference before her own voice rang out and startled her.

"_Tell me, Walter. I'm here. That's what you wanted."_

"_Fine. You drive a hard bargain."_

As soon as Mashburn's voice dropped, Lisbon reached down and clicked off the audio. Wheeling around on her heels, Lisbon's face was beet red and she was shaking in anger. Jane lowered his eyes from her and found a cracked tile between his dirty brown shoes to be of great fascination suddenly. He didn't feel ashamed, but he did feel sorry it came to this.

"You _recorded _me? You_ planted_ something on me? How did you even—how did you know what was going on with Walter? How could you do that to me?"

"I didn't know, for sure," he admitted. "I wanted to make sure you were safe, Teresa."

"So you spied on me?"

"I wasn't spying! I was looking after your well-being. If you would have told me, I wouldn't have had to do it," Jane told her. "You should have went to me or Abbott first thing, Teresa."

"I'm a big girl, Patrick Jane," she told him, tears stinging her eyes. "I knew what I was doing."

"You didn't tell me, though," he reminded her. "You let him control the situation."

"I _would_ have!"

"When? When you got so far into it that you couldn't figure out how to get back out? He's not about to let you go, Teresa. You don't have to be a mentalist to figure that much out. He was playing you like a fiddle. Fast and hard."

"That's not—I..." Lisbon stammered.

"I'm a man, Teresa. I think I know that when I see it. You parade me around in secret like you are ashamed of me. I've never questioned it before because I want you to be happy and confident, but it hurts when you go out with Mashburn and have more interaction in public than we do as a couple. You keeping it from me doesn't help," he told her, reaching out to flick his thumb pad under her eyes and wiping the fresh tears from her cheeks. "I don't want to hurt you. I only want the best for you."

"It's too late," she told him. "I'm hurt already. I can't believe you did this."

"Now you know how it felt when you accused me of hiding the account on purpose. I would never, Teresa."

He reached out for her wrist and tried to pull her to him, but she disengaged herself from his touch and moved around him, marching to her desk and angrily closing the program on her computer and turning off her light. She packed her folder and depositions into her bag and walked around Jane to the elevator. He sighed heavily as the elevator doors closed on her.

They had never fought before. They had always figured things out in a calm manner. It was something they prided themselves in. But, in all that just happened, that went up in a puff of smoke and he had hurt her. She had hurt him, too, but he was used to healing quickly from the sting. The tears on her cheeks were of shame and guilt and hurt that her boyfriend would do something like that to her. He was supposed to trust her, and with one Walter Mashburn, that all went to hell.

Slowly, he made his way to the elevators and found Lisbon had left already. He would be walking home. Good. He needed the time to think of how the hell he was going to make this up to her. He had gone too far with her. There was a line, and he crossed it. Even though she was playing a double standard, it was up to him to comfort her and support her.

It was twenty minutes later that he slipped through Lisbon's front door and locked it behind him. The house was silent as he went through the hall and stood at the closed bedroom door. He would normally have walked in, but given the circumstances, he knocked with his knuckle.

"Teresa?" he called out softly. "Can I come in?"

When he got no answer, he opened the door a little and peered inside. He could see her laying in the bed in a fetal position, and he could hear the sniffles as she taciturnly wept. He opened the door, walked inside, and closed it behind him. He took off his jacket and flung it onto the floor, kicking off his shoes and throwing them on top of his sat on the edge of the bed and placed a consoling hand on Lisbon's shoulder. She didn't brush him off, so he leaned down and whispered in her ear.

"I'm sorry, Teresa," he whispered softly. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

When she didn't answer him, he gently rolled her toward him, twisting her body so that she was looking up into his peering face. Her tear stained cheeks glistened in the dim light from the window on the other side of the room. His face hovered above hers, and his hand came up to dry the tears that were rolling down her face.

"I'm so sorry, Teresa. I shouldn't have done that to you. It was wrong of me to misuse your trust. Please, don't cry, love," he soothed. "I'm an idiot."

"You can't do these things and apologize and think that is going to be enough," she said, her voice thick.

"I'll do whatever you want me to, Lisbon," he told her, pulling a loose tendril of hair from her forehead. "I really am sorry. I apologize for what happened. I need you to know that."

"What do you want me to say, Jane?' she whispered, bringing a hand up to clasp around his wrist.

"Tell me you forgive me."

"No."

"No?"

"I don't want to tell you I forgive you. Show me you want to be forgiven."

"What?" he said, confused by her words.

"Don't ask me to forgive you. Show me."

He wasn't exactly sure if she was seriously, but her hand ghosting up his arm to his bicep sealed the stamp. He lowered his hand to just under her chin and lifted her face up so he could plant a light kiss on her wet lips. When she didn't protest, he opened her mouth with is own and took in the heat, pressing his lips hard against hers. He felt her arms fall and her hands snake around his lower back, pressing him against her awkwardly. The tug of his shirt from his pants was enough to bring his hands to his vest, where he popped the buttons off easily and shrugged from it, throwing it somewhere behind him.

Lisbon lifted herself, unwilling to let him break the deep kiss, and helped him from his striped shirt, pulling it over his head and throwing it in the dimness around the bed. He finally broke the kiss and led soft, slow kisses down the flesh of her neck as her fingers cascaded down his bare chest, feeling his ribs and muscles with the tops of her fingers.

"You're sure?" Jane asked her against her neck, wrapping an arm around her.

"Yeah."

In one swift motion, he rolled over, and Lisbon found herself lying flat against him in the top position, his hands rubbing each of her hips with his palms. She was wearing a long t-shirt as a nightgown, which she always did in the Texas heat. His fingers shifted the material upward, exposing the fleshy hips and thighs.

"How am I doing in my apology?" he asked, guffawing as she lifted herself into a straddle, her hands pushing against his broad chest for leverage.

"It hasn't gotten to the forgiving stage yet," she smiled, despite her still angry mood.

Lisbon lifted her hands down between them and pulled at the bottom of the t-shirt, pulling it up and over her head, throwing it somewhere onto the floor. The only thing she was clad in was the black laced underwear she wore to bed under the shirt.

"I'm sorry," he said again, lifting himself off the pillows and bringing his hand up to cup her breast. He maintained eye contact with her as he leaned forward and kissed the warm, soft skin there. His mouth dragged across the flesh until he sucked in her nipple, causing her to gasp at the sensation. Her right hand flew to his curls, where her fingers locked on, while her other hand came flat against his neck. She felt the scraping of his fingers rake up her spine from his other hand and closed her eyes to just _feel_.

He knew she was emotionally needy. There was a need, after the exchange they had just had, to work the kinks out and show each other just what they loved about each. Sure, the sex _was _pleasurable, but it was also a healing experience and something that always made things better between them, even when they were right as rain to begin with.

She felt his hand rake down her spine and his hand seek entry from the hem of her panties. His palm found the fleshy cheek and squeezed hard, causing her to lean forward a little more and her breast to slip from his mouth. He chuckled and felt the rumble of her laugh, too.

"I would apologize for that, but, again, it's your fault," she said, bending down to kiss him.

"And, again, I take_ full_ responsibility."

She righted herself and fumbled with the button of his pants. Pulling the zipper, she tapped Jane on the chest to motion for him to lift his hips up. Pulling slowly, she pulled his pants and boxers down to where she was sitting. She lifted herself enough to get the pants and boxer shorts past her, and back-kicked them off his legs, where they fell to the floor with the other clothing.

"...you're not recording_ this _are you?" she asked him, unable to help herself.

Jane snorted and shook his head. "No. I deserved that. I'll take that zinger."

She rocked upward on purpose, making him groan as she pressed herself against his hardness under her thigh. Playing dirty was punishment for making her cry. She would make him suffer, he knew. Her hand scooped over his navel and he felt her fingers just at the threshold of his groin. She pushed her fingers into his flesh at the pubic hair and leaned forward to plant a kiss on his chin full of stubble.

"I'll make you a deal," she said, reaching her lips to his ear. "If you can make me say your name at any time, I will forgive you and move on," she bargained.

"What if I don't?" he challenged. "Impossible... but just in case..."

"I'll figure something out. Perhaps starting with the account you kept from me?"

He was going to agree with her, but she closed her mouth over his and sucked his lips into hers. He extracted his hand from her panties and trapped her waist with his strong arm. Fluidly, as he had done many times before, he rolled her lightly, pressing her into the mattress with his body. He could feel her breasts against his chest, and lifted himself off her a little so that his teeth could glide across the skin of her throat, down her collarbone and across the skin of her breasts. She gasped at his teeth raking her nipples, making her pucker under the pressure.

"Deal," he decided, scooting down as his teeth continued to nibble the soft skin of her ribcage and across her navel.

Goosebumps had started to form on her skin as he changed out his teeth for his tongue. His hands ghosted down over the tops of her hips, around to the laced curve of her. He reached out cautiously and pressed two fingers of his right hand to the curve. He felt her hitch under him and smiled as her hands crept up to lock behind his neck. Slipping his two fingers between the material of her panties, he felt her warmth on his palm as he curved them.

"Ah," she gasped suddenly as he plunged his fingers into her without warning. "Uh."

He wriggled the two fingers intermittently, feeling the wet slide down his fingers. He felt her fingertips dig into his neck as he bent and planted a few kisses just under her belly button near the curve of her.

He heard the soft purr pick up in speed and volume as he wiggled his fingers faster, only pulling out of her when the shuddering of Lisbon's body made it unfeasible to keep his rhythm. He pulled his hand from her underwear and pulled at the elastic band, pushing them down.

"Lift up your hips, love," he told her.

She obeyed, lifting up her hips and feeling the material slid past her knees and kicking them free of her. He smiled as he kissed her again at the curve of her groin. She lifted her legs and interlocked them around his waist.

"That's not playing fair," she told him.

"Really? I thought it was pretty fair..." he chuckled. "I have a challenge to uphold."

He reached down and disengaged one of her legs from his waist, lifting it in the air as he reached down and grabbed himself. He opened her leg up further and pushed his tip into her gently, feeling her relax around him as he pushed in completely.

"Jesus," she said.

"Not exactly," he replied. "Not the name I'm aiming for."

He started out gently, going deep into her and shifting back out as slowly as he could. He watched her eyes flutter shut at the sensation, but she didn't utter a word. She simply felt him and felt his hands fall from her leg and lift her hips from the mattress for more leverage in his penetration. Her hands encased his sides as he picked up the pace, drifting out slowly and driving back in hard. Jane rolled to his left and fell into a spooning position, lifting her leg over his has he kept his rhythm and pushed into her harder and quicker with each thrust.

"Jesus!" she shouted again, pressing a hand to his naked hip behind her. "God!"

"The wrong name!" he said, pushing in harder as his hand came to press against her belly so she was virtually stuck to him.

He wasn't going to stop until she said his name. Loudly. If he had to keep going until his bones ached, he would. He just wanted to put this behind him, and he felt like this was the only way she would forgive him for being so stupid.

"Jane," she whispered, shuddering against him as he felt the convulsion around him. "Jane."

He felt and heard her reach climax, limply falling against his body as he pressed into her a few more times. Finally, unable to hold on, he succumbed and spilled into her. His breathing was ragged as he lay there, spooning her, kissing the back of her neck and using a fingertip to draw a circle on her belly.

"I win," he whispered, pressing his lips to her ear. "You said my name. Twice."

"Hmm," she replied sleepily. "I forgive you, Jane. Don't do it again."

"But look what happens when I do?" he laughed.

"Jane..."

"I'm kidding. I am sorry. I promise Teresa. I won't hurt you like that again."

"Good," she said, turning herself to face him. "I'm sorry for accusing, too. It was stupid."

He reached out and pulled her close. "I want to explain myself, Teresa."

"Okay."

"The account was from when I was fooling people and using them to get rich. I'm not proud about it. I put that money away in an overseas account. Foolish, I know. But I hadn't hidden from you on purpose. I just never used it. Didn't find the need after Angela died."

"Did you buy that boat, Jane? If you did, I won't be upset. I just wished you'd talked to me first."

"I didn't buy it."

"Who did?"

"I don't know, but I will have Wylie work on tracing it back. When I find who did, we'll settle up."

He wasn't about to tell her his suspicion was Mashburn. He'd cross that bridge when he got to it. Right now, he needed proof. If Wylie could trace it back to Mashburn so how, that would be another tick in Jane's book.

"I'm sorry, Jane. I shouldn't have reacted that way," she replied, yawning.

"We're both sorry for things we said and did, Teresa. The important thing is we worked out the kinks."

"Punny," she snorted.

"Ha-ha."

"I'm sorry you feel like I am ashamed of you, Jane. I'm not. You're brilliant and get the job done... You make me a better person. I don't hide what you and I have because I am ashamed of being with you to others, Jane. I'm... It's hard for me. They already think poorly of me because of the whole Pike thing."

"I know. It's one of the things I am sorry I said, Teresa."

"We'll tell them eventually. I told Mashburn," she chuckled. "You should have seen his face."

"I know," he whispered, kissing her shoulder. "I am so proud."

"I thought you would be," she smiled.

"I love you."

"I love you, too, Jane. Don't hurt me again, okay?"

"Promise."

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

Walter Mashburn sat there and seethed. Picking up the receiver, Mashburn hurled it across the room where it smashed against the wall and struck debris in every direction. He had just heard them having sex and Teresa forgiving him for the account and the boat purchase. Philips had better get his ass in gear and make sure what they did was untraceable. Patrick Jane was not a man to be crossed unless you had the pieces to play with.

If there wasn't anything the boat did for the relationship, perhaps Jane would like to know a certain thing that happened years before. There were things that even Jane would be unwilling to forgive so easily. Teresa was a kind soul. It's why she forgave so easily. But Jane had been hurt and broken for a long time. Mashburn made a tight fist and punched the table in front of him. He hated losing. He thought for sure exposing and using Jane's money would firelight her eyes and turn her cold. It had for a little while.

He'd be goddamned if he was going to give up. He had wicked back-up plans. He picked up the phone and dialed Philip's number and smiled a cold, thin smile.

* * *

><p>Hope you enjoy!<p>

Chapter brought to you by damnitjane.

We don't own TM or anything related.


	8. Falling Ficticiously

Lisbon woke up to find she was alone in bed. She slowly sat up, looking around rubbing her eyes as they adjusted to the light when Jane walked into the room carrying her breakfast on a tray.

"Good morning, beautiful."

"What's all this?"

"Breakfast in bed."

"Wow. It looks amazing, Thank you."

Jane placed the tray in front of Lisbon. He had cooked her all her favorite things. She wasn't much of a breakfast person, but she knew Jane was trying to make an effort, apologizing for their stupid fight yesterday, and so she needed to do the same.

"Right. Well, you eat up. We have a big day today as we are going to finally close the Poole case and hopefully a few other things, too. But I need to go do a few things before work, so I will see you there, okay?"

Lisbon stopped sipping her coffee as Jane bent down, placing a soft kiss on her lips. "Jane, these things you need to do… they don't have anything to do with this boat business do they?"

"Don't you worry Lisbon you just leave that all to me. Okay?"

"Jane, please don't do anything stupid, okay? We don't know for sure who or what was involved yet. Let Wylie find the evidence first and then we can nail their ass, legally."

"Okay. I promise you, I won't do anything stupid, okay? And I am sorry for our fight yesterday and for not telling you. I promise you from now on, no more secrets. Okay?"

"Agreed. No more secrets." Lisbon smiled sweetly at the man she loved, knowing he meant every single word and that nothing and no one would ever come between them no matter what happened. Jane placed a longer kiss on her lips. He smiled when she moaned a little at the loss of his touch. Jane paused in the doorway giving her a cheeky wink, leaving her alone to finish her perfect breakfast in bed.

Jane entered the Waldorf hotel. He stood for a few moments taking in the people and hustle and bustle of the lobby. This had been exactly the type of place he would have stayed and dined in when he was working as a psychic. Jane stood hoping he had finally managed to put that con man behind him. He approached the reception desk and leaned over, informing the receptionist that he was here to see Walter Mashburn. The receptionist rang up and informed Jane that Mr. Mashburn would see him, and he could take the elevator, providing him with the penthouse code.

Several minutes later, Jane walked out of the elevator into a luxury penthouse suite. There was no sign of Mashburn, but Jane noticed a door on the other side of the room which was closed, and knew he was hiding in the bedroom. Jane walked over to large glass windows to take in the skyline view of Austin.

After a few minutes, the bedroom door finally opened and Walter swaggered into the main room looking like the cat who had got the cream.

"Patrick! What a _nice_ surprise! Don't tell me! You here because the FBI is dropping the ridiculous charges against me and I can finally return home?"

Jane laughed, moving around the room taking in everything. Finally, he leaned casually up against the bar. "No. Sadly, that's not why I am here. I am here, Walter, to let you know that I know it was you and that your feeble attempt to play games, and drive a wedge between me and Teresa, didn't work."

"I'm sorry. What are you talking about?"

Jane was impressed that Walter could hold such a good poker face so well in front of him without breaking a sweat.

"This is a nice place, Walter. You know what? I suggest you enjoy it whilst you can."

Smirking, Jane began heading back towards the elevator, now noticing the fear in Walters' eyes. Jane knew he had achieved what he had wanted to do. Placing fear into his opponent. "Oh, and Walter? Just so you know, it's going to take a lot more than some random one night stand that happened Five years ago to tear me and Teresa apart. Trust me."

Before Jane could re-enter the elevator though, Walter let out a very smug laugh. Jane turned to see Walter had taken a seat on one side of the white leather couch, looking like the cat who got the cream once again.

"She hasn't _told _you? Has she?"

Jane sighed, rolling his eyes. "Told me what?"

"Oh well. I never kiss and tell, Patrick. But out of curiosity, why would I try and drive a wedge between you and Teresa?"

"We both know _exactly_ why."

"Hmm. But still. I mean, if I wanted Teresa back, all I would have to do, is sit and wait for you to do what you_ always_ do. Leave. Or mess up and then wait for _her_ to come to _me_. Tell me? How was South America?" Jane smile dropped realizing what Walter was getting at.

"Hey, don't you worry, Patrick. I took _real_ good care of Teresa for you. But you know even the toughest of people become vulnerable, seeking comfort. Teresa included."

Walter was now sitting with the biggest smile on his face, knowing Jane had had no idea and he had clearly got one over the famous Patrick Jane.

"The Thing is, Patrick, this whole perfect boyfriend good guy act you're doing? How long do you think you can keep that up for? A year? Two? Eventually, your mask will slip and you will show your true colors again. A leopard never changes it spots in my experience. You will always be a selfish, arrogant, self-loathing con man who doesn't give a _damn_ about anyone but himself. I mean, you proved that when you disappeared on her for six months without a word. Vegas? Wasn't it?"

Walter knew he was laying it on thick, but just hoped that Jane wouldn't see through it. In reality, the first time Teresa had shown up at his door, it was because she was angry and upset at having discovered through a work colleague Jane wasn't hurt or dead but all the time been living it up in Vegas. She had needed to vent her frustrations, so to speak, and Walter was only too happy to help her do that. Unfortunately, for Walter, waking up in a cold, empty bed and no Teresa the next morning had dented his ego somewhat.

A year or so later, when Teresa turned up again, it was_ different_. She was vulnerable, sad, and afraid even. Her whole world lost due to Red Johns downfall; her team, her career, Jane… all gone. She seemed so small and delicate and for once, in Walter Mashburn's life, he did the right thing and didn't take advantage. He just was there for her when she needed him. Finally, after two bottles of wine, lack of sleep and pure exhaustion, Teresa eventually passed out on his couch. Walter simply picked her up and placed her in one of his guest bedrooms to sleep it all off. The next morning she had left a note on the side table thanking him for being a friend when she needed one.

It was taking every ounce of Jane's biofeedback and breathing techniques not to show Mashburn that his words were affecting him, even though it felt like he been sucker punched hard in the stomach that Lisbon had gone running into the arms of this arrogant prick when he was in Vegas and then back again when he had gone on the run.

The Vegas thing he could understand, as he, too, had also made many mistakes himself in that whole dreadful period. But it was different. When he went on the run, he had written her letters every day from his South American island, trying to let her know how much she had meant to him, telling her how sorry he was for everything and all the time she clearly didn't give a damn because she was jumping into bed with Mashburn. It hurt to know that Lisbon hadn't told him.

First, she had kept the dinner date from him and now this. Jane could feel his anger building, especially after the guilt trip she had given him when he had kept his small kiss with Erica a secret from her.

Jane plastered a big smile on his face despite what he was feeling inside and beamed back at Walter.

"Goodbye, Walter."

Entering the elevator, he watched as Walter sat grinning, knowing he had won that round. Jane had come here to see Mashburn, to shake him up, let him know he was the one over that he would bring him down for what he had done. What Jane hadn't expected was Walter to play an ace card and turned the tables back on him. Once the elevator doors closed, Walter's cocky grin fell, replaced by a very concerned look, grabbing his cell phone off the bar.

"Phillips, it's me. Listen, we have big trouble."

* * *

><p>Lisbon glanced at the clock on her P.C. It was coming up for one o'clock with still no sign of Jane, She sat at her desk trying to distract herself with boring paperwork. She had called Jane three times so far on Abbott's request, leaving him two messages to urgently call her, but she hadn't heard a thing from him, not even a text, and she knew something was wrong. This wasn't like him. Abbott was getting anxious at Jane's absence, too. The Senator's murder case was putting big pressure on him and he needed to speak to Jane before they went ahead with his plan of exposing and catching the Senator's murderer. Abbott appeared at Lisbon's desk once again. "Any word yet?" He asked nervously.<p>

"No, sir, but I am sure Jane will be here soon," Lisbon knew that was more of a hope on her part than a fact.

"Well, he needs to be here. Now," With this Abbott walked over to Wylie. "Wylie, can you trace Jane's cell for me."

On Abbotts order, Wylie's fingers began quickly clicking on his keyboard. After a few minutes, Wylie spoke up. "Uh, sir, I have traced Jane's cell...?

"And?

"Well, according to this, Jane is currently five blocks away from here at a bar... called _Coopers_?"

"A bar?" Lisbon's voice squeaked across the bullpen a little more loudly than she had wanted it to.

"Well, let's go get him, then shall we?" suggested Abbott, clearly not impressed at having to go pick up his wayward consultant from a bar when there was still an important murder to solve.

*********  
>Ten minutes later Abbott pulled his SUV in front of the bar, Cho jumped out of the car with Abbott following. Abbott knew Lisbon wasn't far behind them and he wasn't sure what they were going to find.<p>

Abbott and Cho walked into Coopers, the place was fairly empty, Cho noticed a small group of people sat towards the back of the bar laughing loudly and chatting, it was then that Abbott saw Jane sat in the center of it all. He nodded his head to Cho and both walked towards further into the bar.

"Ahhh… guys, you're here, join us... Two more glasses for my friends here. And another round of drinks for these gents also," Jane shouted out to the barmaid stood behind the bar, drying up glasses. A loud cheer erupted from the group of drinkers surrounding Jane.

Abbott walked over to where Jane was sitting, weaving his way thru the bar chairs. "Jane, what are you doing? We have a case to close?"

"Relax Dennis we have plenty of time, have a drink, chill out... " Jane said, hiccupping and pouring himself another drink from the near empty tequila bottle sat in front of him.

"Jane, I think it's time we got going." Abbott noticed in the reflection of the mirror that Lisbon was now entering the bar. Lisbon looked around the bar scanning the room but stopped once she notice Jane sat at the table.

Jane clicked his fingers at the busty blonde barmaid and shouted in a loud voice. "Hey! Darlin', could you bring us another bottle of this good stuff?" Jane held the empty bottle of tequila up, smiling a sexy beaming smile towards the woman.

"Sure, no problem." The blonde was now smiling back at him before giving him a wink and swaying her hips a little knowing full well most of the men in the bar were watching her. Jane had also noticed Lisbon entering the bar. A look of guilt ran across his face knowing that this next little act was all for her benefit, but Jane quickly masqueraded it with one of his superficial masks before gesturing loudly to everyone in the room.

"Ah, there she is! This, my friends, is Terrr_eessssa_." Jane slurred her name out drunkenly. Most of the men turned to look at her whilst Jane continued. "She's the love of my life, my angel, my beautiful princess... Ooooppps… my _angry_ princess by the looks of that frown line on her forehead is anything to go by," Jane sniggered.

The busty blonde had arrived at the table carrying the bottle of tequila Jane had requested. "There you go. Let me know if you need me to get you anything else." The blonde waitress was making it quite clear that she wasn't just talking about Jane's drinks order, and Jane smiled smugly knowing that this was exactly what he had wanted Lisbon to see.

"You see, my girlfriend over there... Oops, I mean _secret_ girlfriend... it's a secret because she is embarrassed by me," Jane said, still in a very loud but hushed voice.

"She's a cop. She pretends to be this woman who says she has no secrets, but really, it's all just an act!"

Jane angrily slammed his empty glass down on the table, not taking his eyes off of Lisbon. Lisbon stood confused at why Jane was acting and saying all this. A few hours ago, he had made her breakfast in bed and was his normal, happy self and she had no idea what had happened since then or even what secrets he felt she was hiding from him.

Jane turned his focus on the other woman. "What's _you_r name?" Jane asked the blonde barmaid stood beside him.

"It's Lacy."

"From Oklahoma, right?" Jane asked, still beaming a sexy smile towards to woman.

"Yes. Born and bred." She flicked her long blonde hair over her shoulder and placed one hand seductively on her hip being flirty towards the gorgeous blonde guy now chatting her up.

"A _Leo_ right? Only child... Dropped out of college... Mother was an alcoholic. Father left when you were a kid. now you've have started drinking like your mom. But that's why you work in a bar to help fuel your addiction. You have low self-esteem and big time daddy issues. That's probably why you dress like a cheap hooker, and you give yourself to any guy who comes in here and buys you a drink. But you should know that won't get you love."

The blonde barmaid face turned red and filled with anger at Jane's almost accurate account of her life and she moved to place both hands on her hips. Unfortunately, Jane didn't stop, continuing to humiliate the woman in front of everyone.

"But don't worry what you lack in class and brains sweetheart! You definitely make up for in body..." Jane wiggled his eyes back at the blonde. "I mean, your shirt is so far undone, it beats going to a lousy _strip joint_, am I right guys?"

A few of the guys sat around the table sniggered in agreement and Jane looked over to Abbott. "Right, Dennis?" Jane was holding his fist up in the air waiting for Dennis to fist bump. Abbott stood in slight disbelief at the cruel, drunken Jane in front of him. He definitely wanted to use his fists on Jane at that moment that was for sure. But it wasn't for a fist-bumping. Abbot looked at Cho, who stood a little nearer to the table with his arms folded looking like he, too, wanted to give Jane good fist for his troubles.

Abbott glanced back at a hurt-looking Lisbon. She realized, in that moment, it wasn't just anger she felt, but more disappointment. She had seen this cruel side of Jane a few times over the years. Jane normally lashed out when he was dealing with some person who made him angry or frustrated, but she hoped that man was slowly fading away over the years. She also had sympathy for the poor woman at the end of the day as she was still a person, with feelings, no matter how her life was or how she dressed. Abbott decided he needed to get Jane out of bar and sobered up quick before he did or said anything else that could do anymore damage.

But Before Cho or Abbott could react, the problem was taken right out of their hands by the sound of a hard, cold hand slap across Jane's face. A hum of laughter and a few hisses filled the air as Jane's head spun sideways from the force. The bar-maid stormed off but not before shouting over to Lisbon, "Your boyfriend is a _jerk_! You know what honey? You can do so much better than an _asshole_ like him!"

Lisbon watched as the blonde left the bar area with tears filling her eyes. Jane was sitting now rubbing his face and looking a bit dazed. Lisbon wasn't sure what she wanted to do. Part of her wanted to go over and kick his drunken ass, but another part of her wanted to just leave. She decided in that moment, that the best thing for her and Jane was to get as far away from him as possible. She violently pushed the door of the bar open with such force that it made everyone turn and look. Jane sat quietly watching the woman he loved storm from the bar clearly upset by what had just gone on.

"Get up!" Cho had now moved around to the side of the table. Jane's happy, arrogant demeanor, instantly dropped now that Lisbon had left the room.

"Why?" Jane said challenging him, taking a large swig of his drink.

"Because," Cho said stoically, "it's in your best interest, trust me. You can either walk out of here yourself now, or I will _drag_ your drunken ass out for you. It's your choice."

Jane looked up at Cho in sheer annoyance before downing the rest of his drink. "You know what, Cho? You really need to get laid. What happen to that little blonde tart you had? Spring? Fall? Whatever her name is, I think you need to get her back in your life..."

Cho clenched both his fists, but didn't respond. He knew Jane wanted a reaction from him. Probably one that resulted in a punch, but Cho was damned if he was going to be manipulated by a drunken Jane. Jane chuckled, knowing full well he had pushed Cho's buttons. Jane stood, staggering a little and grabbing the table to balance himself upright.

"See ya, later guys. Duty calls," Jane wave a hand to the guys at the table. Eventually, he swayed past Abbott, giving him a look that wasn't friendly, pushing open the door out to the sidewalk.

Leaning up against the black SUV was Wylie and Vega, quietly waiting. At spotting Jane, Wylie moved towards him. "Hey Jane, are you okay? We were getting worried?"

"Of course you were..." Jane said snidely at the young IT agent.

Wylie was taken aback by Jane coldness. He had always had a good relationship with the consultant and wasn't use to him being so off.

"Are you okwy? What happened? Lisbon came out and left without saying a word," Vega said, slowly realizing that Jane was, in fact, very intoxicated.

Jane gave Vega the full once over and then smirked, turning back to look at Wylie.

"So… Wylie. You tapping that ass yet or what?" Jane nodded his head in Vega's direction so they were all clear on who he was referring to. Wylie's mouth fell open in shock, his face flushing bright red. "No! Of course, you're not. That would mean actually growing a pair and admitting openly how you feel about her," Jane said laughing.

"You're one to talk," Cho remarked behind him. He had now joined the rest of the team on the sidewalk, closely followed by Abbott who was talking on his cell. Jane just glared at Cho choosing to ignore his last remark and decide to focus back on the weaker link instead.

"You know, Wylie, if you want any tips, in the bedroom I mean, I'm sure us guys can help you out. I mean having sex with a _real _woman isn't the same as cyber-sex, but I get the feeling once you get Vega going she could really let loose despite the uptight goody two-shoes, little girl act she puts on. In fact, I'd say you getting her in the sack is probably what she needs. I mean, she practically screams uptight and frig..."

Before Wylie knew what had happened, he felt his fist connecting with Jane's face. Wylie had never struck or punch anyone in his life! In fact, growing up as a kid, he was more on the receiving end of them, but in that moment he felt his blood boiling at all the disrespectful Jane was saying about Vega and something just snapped in him.

Wylie's punch knocked Jane clear off his feet and onto his ass, everyone was stood in shock for a few seconds watching Jane moan and groan trying to stop the blood pouring from his nose, Cho was the first to react walking over to Jane, dragging him upright by his arm.

"You deserved that," Cho said, trying to hide a small smile creep across his face, proud of Wylie for putting Jane firmly in his place. Jane pulled out a handkerchief from his inside pocket for his nose. Abbott ended his call seeing the chaos now going on between his team.

"Cho, take Jane home or something and try sober him up. Vega, you, me and Wylie will head back to offices."

Wylie hadn't moved since punching Jane and was stood shaking, looking rather pale, cradling his left hand in pain.

"Are you okay, Wylie? Do you need Vega to get you some ice for that?" Abbott asked, concerned for the young man who was clearly very affected by his recent impulsive actions.

"Uh, No, sir... I will be okay. I think..."

"Right. Well, we have to solve this Poole case and this drunken idiot was supposed to help us do that, but clearly he is in no fit state right now."

Vega stepped forward, placing her hand gently on Wylie's arm, bringing him out of his trance-like state.

"Thank you for defending my honor." Leaning in, Vega placed a small kiss to his right cheek before climbing back into the SUV.

Cho grabbed Jane's arm, pulling him towards the other SUV, opening the door shoving him in. Jane sat in the passenger seat with his head leaning on the headrest still trying to stop the blood dripping from his nose. A few minutes later, Cho pulled up outside a coffee shop and jumped out.

"Wait here."

A few minutes later he returned carrying two large black coffees.

"Drink this."

"I don't drink coffee."

"You do, now. It's not a request."

Jane reluctantly took the cup from Cho's hand, both his head and nose were now pounding, and he could see in the windshield mirror that both his eyes were slowly turning black. Jane took a swig of the coffee and gasped in disgust at the bitterness that passed down his throat. "God, I hate this stuff," he said, wishing he was drinking his favorite tea instead.

Jane drank some more of the coffee and looked out the car window trying to ignore the death stare he was receiving from the Korean agent sat beside him. All Jane really wanted to do was go to his trailer and sleep it all off.

"So?"

"So..."

"What was all _that_ about?"

"Well, I said a few nasty things that maybe I shouldn't have, and then Wylie punched me."

"Not that. Before. In the bar."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Really? Because you seem to want to tell every man and his brother about it in the bar."

"It's none of your business."

"Yes, you're right. It's none of my business. But I won't stand by and let you break Lisbon's heart."

Jane spun around to finally face Cho for the first time since their conversation started.

"That's a joke. Trust me, Cho. This time, it isn't me doing the hurting."

They both sat in silence, sipping on their coffee. Eventually, Jane spoke first, breaking the silence between them.

"Where did she go?" his voice breaking a little as he said it. He was slowly beginning to sober up and he could feel the guilt welling up at how badly he acted earlier in the bar towards Lisbon.

"Honestly, Jane? I don't know."

Cho could only hope that wherever Lisbon had gone, she was okay and not to upset by Jane actions. He wasn't sure what was going on, but looking at the state of the sad, drunken, bloody-nosed consultant sat beside him, whatever it was had clearly hurt him badly.

* * *

><p><strong>This chapter brought to you by brooklyn79.<strong>

**Next chapter is the last chapter of this story, as everything wraps up. Who killed Steven Poole? Where is Lisbon? How does Jane stop being a dickbag?**

**We don't own the Mentalist.**


	9. Falling Fallacy

FALLING FALLACY

It was half an hour later that Lisbon slipped up the elevator. Adjusting her jacket, she tapped the pocket and walked to the door. She wasn't upset. She was pissed off. She should have been mad at Jane for his words, and she was a little, but she knew the one place and the one person that would ever make him think she had a secret. And, for what it was worth, she did have a secret. She was still reeling from Jane announcing to everyone that he was in love with her and that she was embarrassed by him. That was simply not true! He had hurt her by saying it, but she couldn't blame him, either. She shook her head and sighed deeply. She had found comfort this way, before. Perhaps, she would again. She'd deal with Jane and his outburst later. Right now, it was not the time.

She looked at the door for a very long time. Unwilling to feel the courage seep from her body, she exhaled sharply and knocked on the double wood doors. She waited for a few brief moments before the door slid open a little, casting the dim light into the hallway. It casted deep shadows around her as she smiled warmly. His smile matched hers as he opened the door wider and let her slip past him. He closed the door behind her and she saw him turn to face her, his hands going automatically into his pockets.

"You're here," he said, smiling wide at her. "It's late, Teresa."

She returned the wide smile and shrugged her shoulders. It was quite late, now. It wasn't that she was here that bothered her. It was _why_ she was here. She watched as he crossed the room to stand in front of her, his face partially illuminated by the lamps switched on next to the couch. His face was full of surprise, but there was a certain degree of expectancy in his stance.

"Yes," she said, sticking her hands in her pockets. "I'm sorry about the late hour. I've had... I've had a tough night, Walter."

His smile grew. "Really? What happened? Did something happen with the case?"

Lisbon shrugged her shoulders and turned to sit on the white couch to her right. She watched as Mashburn followed her, sitting close to her and placing his hands on his knees. She watched his eyes scan hers and he could see hurt in them.

"This isn't about the case? Is it Jane?" Mashburn asked softly. "Did he do something to you?"

"Don't worry about it, Walter," she sniffed. "He's not relevant."

"Oh," Mashburn exclaimed, putting his finger in the air, "but he_ is_. He hurt you. That's relevant to me."

"I'm sorry for what he did to you, Walter. I didn't know he was going to do that."

Mashburn conveyed confusion for a second before shaking his head. Clearly, he was trying to figure out what Lisbon meant. Lisbon put her hand on his hand resting on his knee and smiled at him.

"Do what?" Walter asked.

"Get Abbott to press charges on you for withholding information," she said.

"Oh," he laughed. "That."

"That."

"Teresa, you didn't come here just to say sorry on his behalf," explained Walter. "What happened tonight?"

"Do you have any wine?" Lisbon asked. "We can talk about it over that."

"Like old times," he smiled. "Of course, I do."

He got up from the couch and went over to the bar, selecting a vintage wine and grabbing two glasses from the counter. He turned to her and nodded his head to the patio outside. The couch was white and the wine was red. She understood. Getting up, she met him at the patio doors and slid outside with him. The stifling air was hot and oppressive on them as they sat down next to the long pool.

"What'd he do?" Walter asked, corking open the wine and pouring it into the two flutes.

She took the flute he offered her and sipped the wine. It went down smooth and easy. She turned to him and licked the wine from her lips before continuing.

"He got drunk and made an ass out of himself," she replied. "No rhyme or reason. He just was a jerk."

There was a silence between them that hung in the air and made it dense. Finally, Walter sipped his wine and sat it back down on the table in front of him, turning to her seriously.

"He's not good for you, Teresa," he told her. "He will always be that self-hating conman that you tried to reform. Sure, his antics were fun once upon a time, but they've become stale. He doesn't treat you like you _should_ be treated."

She turned to him and sat her flute on the table next to his. She leaned forward and sighed. She could see his eyes scan her face in the lighted patio lanterns, and could make out his hand reaching for her chin.

"No," she agreed. "He doesn't."

He laughed lightly as his face came closer to hers.

"You have _me_, Teresa," he promised her. "I'm here."

"It's why I came," Lisbon replied softly.

"Really?"

"It's also why I won't leave," she told him.

* * *

><p>"Are they all in there?" Jane asked Abbott, turning from the very room Steven Poole was murdered in. "Did you bring the evidence bags?"<p>

Abbott nodded his head and turned to Cho. "Did you sober him up? Can he do this without messing it up and slurring?"

Cho looked at Jane and then at Abbott and nodded. Cho had seen a change in Jane since the coffee. He looked past Abbott and Jane. "Yeah. It's all Jane, now."

"All right," Abbott said. "Let's go solve a murder. Cho has the evidence bags on the chair outside. And, let me be clear, you don't do anything but pick them out. You don't do anything else. Cho and myself will do the rest. We have Vega and Wylie back at the FBI ready in case we need them."

"Gotcha, boss," Jane saluted, laughing. "This is going to be fun, guys."

Jane walked past them and into the offices. Gathered in a rather crude circle, was Gloria Poole, Senator Leeds, Senator Watts and security guard Roland Keating, whom Jane had seen talking with Cho and Abbott about the missing Senator. Abbott and Cho followed him inside and closed the door behind them. The four people gathered were getting antsy, yelling at Abbott to explain why they were there so late and what this was all about.

"Calm down!" Abbott shouted over them. "My consultant, Patrick Jane, is going to explain why you are here. Listen carefully, and you might just go home in your own bed, tonight."

Abbott tilted his head to Jane to go ahead. Jane clapped his hands together and rubbed them, walking back and forth in front of the four people standing before him. He took in their facial expressions; two were confused and one was cocky. He stopped pacing and pointed at Gloria Poole.

"You, stand here," he pointed to a spot just in front of him.

Gloria Poole did as she was told. Walking toward Jane, she stopped at where his finger pointed and turned to him expectantly. Jane pointed to Senator Leeds and asked him to stand in front of Gloria, facing her.

"You're what? Six-foot tall?" Jane asked as Leeds took his position.

"Five-nine," he responded. "Why?"

"All in good time."

"You! What's your name? Keating? Come here," he pointed to a spot facing the back of Leeds. "You were the security guard that night, correct?" Jane asked.

"Yes, I was."

"Good. Now, here is where things get tricky," Jane said, stepping back. "Gloria Poole is too short to reach over Walter Mashburn to smash her husband in the head with the paperweight shaped like Texas. Gloria, here, is only five-four."

"So?" Keating asked. "What's that got to do with me?"

"Interesting question, isn't it?"

"Jane," Abbott warned. "What are you up to?"

"Solving the murder, Dennis," Jane replied, pulling Gloria from her position. "Stand here, Keating."

Roland Keating took over Gloria's spot, and Jane stood back. He nodded at Cho, who pulled an evidence bag off the chair right outside the door. Inside the bag, was the paperweight used to smash Steven Poole on the head.

"You're tall," Jane told Keating. "Very tall. You're what? Six-foot-six?" Jane asked, reaching for the bag that held the paperweight. "You tower over both Mashburn and Senator Poole."

Keating laughed. "Are you serious?"

"Very."

"My height has nothing to do with anything! Plenty of people that night were my height or taller," he argued.

Jane tapped his finger on his lip and shrugged. "Yeah, but none of them left the Gala at any time. We checked."

"Who said I did, either?"

"Here is where it gets interesting," Jane told him, pointing to the evidence bag in his hand. "Walter Mashburn said he saw a flash of light in front of him. This," he held up the bag, "is what caused that flash."

"And?" Senator Leeds spoke up.

"Think about it," Jane said, placing the paperweight back on the desk, in the original position it was that night. "It's behind Poole as he is speaking with Mashburn. So, how did it get to Steven Poole's head without Mashburn knowing or seeing anything but a flash?"

"I don't know!" Senator Leeds answered. "I didn't do it. We were talking to you when it happened!"

"The autopsy says he was dead at least an hour. Plenty of time for you to sneak up, kill Poole, and then return to the Gala," Cho reminded him.

"He's right," Jane said, staring at Leeds. "He didn't do it. But how lame of an excuse. He's too short, and, from just my impressions here, he's a coward who is driven to political influences because he likes the power it brings. You can go."

"Wait," Abbott spoke up. "You stay until we are sure. Sit down in that chair over there and don't move."

Senator Leeds stepped to the side as Jane waved at him. He sat down in the chair and gave Jane the stink-eye. Jane turned to Watts and pointed to the chair next to Leeds.

"You can have a seat, too. Too short," Jane told him. "I can see that both of you are not tall enough to do it. When I talked to you both at the Gala, you seemed nervous and unaware of where your wives were," Jane explained. " Which could be because you were killing the good ol' Senator. But now I see that is just your political masks sniffing out the poor and desolate while your wives sip the finest wine and wear the latest trends."

"Jane…" Abbott warned.

"Right," he said, turning to Abbott. "That leaves us with Keating, here, and the wife."

"How do you get to that conclusion?" Abbott asked, crossing his arms across his chest. "We need more to go on then just your observation he's tall enough, Jane."

"Yes," he told Abbott. Turning back to Keating, "The reason Mashburn saw a flash was because the light filtering through the paperweight from the dim light that was on when we entered that night acted like a strobe light, blinding him temporarily. The flash, or in this case reflection, bounced from the dim light above and off the glass paperweight and what do you think happened after that, Mr. Keating?"

Roland Keating stood still but did not speak. Jane rotated around and grabbed the paperweight, pulling it from the evidence bag and holding it up to the light. From the dim light above them, a single beam bounced off the paperweight. Jane shifted the paperweight in his hands a little so that when it hit just right, the light bounced off the paperweight, flashing onto Roland Keating's nametag, which read KEATING. The flash blinded Keating temporarily in the eyes, causing him to lift his hands and rub them vigorously.

"The flash he saw came from your shiny name tag, Keating," Jane smiled. "You left yourself in when you saw Mashburn and Poole heading up the stairs. You were the only one with a key to the offices besides Poole, himself. There is a door back where Mashburn was held that opens only with a key from the outside. You slipped in, and you killed Senator Poole, turned off the lights and switched on his dim desk lamp, and then slipped out of the offices unnoticed, didn't you?"

"That's—that's utterly _nonsensical_!" Keating laughed, turning to Abbot and Cho. "Are you going to let this man humiliate me this way? With such idiocy?"

"Idiocy? Please! You are the one getting caught by a suit-and-vest-wearing man," Jane laughed. "I don't even work for the FBI!"

"Jane," Cho broke in. "We don't have physical evidence leading to that. A nametag doesn't count."

"Ah, but we do, Cho. In good time." Jane put down the paperweight and turned to Cho.

"Huh?"

"First, hand me the other evidence bag, please," Jane requested, opening his hands as Cho threw it to him.

Jane opened the zipper of the evidence bag and turned it upside dow and shook it so that several tufts of Minx hair fell into his palm. Jane threw the empty bag onto the desk behind him and pointed at the hairs as he smiled at Keating.

"Do you know what_ these _are?" he asked the security guard. "I am willing to bet you do."

"_Of course not_! What are they?" Keating asked.

"Your downfall," Jane laughed.

* * *

><p>Mashburn set his fluted glass down on the table and reached over to pour himself another. Lisbon leaned her elbows on the patio table and sighed. This is what it all came down to. The difference between them and what they once were seemed to penetrate the only stable thoughts running through her mind.<p>

"You sure you don't want another, Teresa?" he asked her, a slight slur to his voice. "It's vintage."

"Yes, I am sure, Walter," she replied.

They had spent the last half hour talking about what happened in the bar with Jane, and what happened with Jane and Lisbon's fight and what sparked it. He had listened to her while pouring glass after glass and downing it. Lisbon, for all her will, only drank a glass full.

"He doesn't deserve you, Teresa," he responded. "He's going to leave you someday. One day, you will wake up and realize that he's gone. No Dear Jane letter, no nothing. _Poof_," he said, using his hands to insinuate the word.

"You're not the first person to say that," she divulged. "I think you're right, though, Walter. He hasn't changed."

"Sorry, Teresa," he told her, reaching over to cup her cheek. "It's sad to see this happen to such a great woman."

"Thanks for letting me see that in him, Walter," she replied, wrinkling her nose at his breath. "For alerting me to his secret account."

He hesitated, dropping his hand to her knee under the table and pressing his fingers lightly into her flesh. He looked at her with surprise, but nodded his head.

"How'd you know about that?" he asked, smiling at her mischievously. "I thought it was rather... _untraceable_."

She shook her head and leaned in so she was inches from Mashburn's face.

"Nothing is untraceable to the FBI, Walter," she explained. "Your friend—Phillips, is his name? He was a bit untidy with the servers and proxies he used to wire transfer the money to your account."

"You talked to Philips?"

"No," she admitted. "He must have found out someone was coming looking because he vanished like a ghost. _Poof._"

Walter looked at her and started to shake his head. Lisbon held up a hand and whatever he was going to say, he stopped and closed his mouth.

"Teresa—" he started, standing up and wobbling a little. "I did it for you... for us. He came here this morning and tried to intimidate me! Me! I told him about how you would come to be in your hour of need! It's because I deserve you! You thought of me when you were in my arms!"

She stood, now, too. Facing him, she smiled and reached into her jacket pocket, producing a small, pin-sized microphone from her pocket. She watched Mashburn's eyes fall to it and wander back up to meet her green ones.

"I hope you got that, Wylie," she said to the microphone as she held it up between them. "Thanks for the evidence, Walter. I am sure Jane will be happy to know his hunch was right."

"This... this was all an act? Patrick yelling at you was an _act_? I know my rights, Teresa! You need a permission to record me! That's a violation of my human rights!" Mashburn protested.

Lisbon shook her head. "Actually, in the commission of a crime or a solicitation of a crime, I do not need your permission, Walter," she explained. "I checked. And, no. The bar incident was real. But I am not here to talk about that."

"What are you going to do with that?" he blurted out, stepping back from her and stumbling into his own chair. "Arrest me?"

"_Arrest _you?" she laughed. "You'd get off really easy. You can afford the best lawyers, Walter. No," she shook her head. "I want you to put Jane's money back into his account. _Every. Single. Dime._ Then I want you to cancel the yacht you bought. Yes, I know about the yacht," she told him as he opened his mouth. "You have until you are cleared as a suspect to do it. If it isn't done..." she threatened, holding up the microphone again and arching her eyebrows. She knew Mashburn didn't kill Poole. Evidence and gut instincts told her that a long time ago. "I will keep this tape until you do. Once it's transferred and you get the hell out of Texas, I will destroy it then."

"That's blackmail!" he squeaked.

"She leaned in close to his face and smiled. "Yes, it is. How does it feel?"

Mashburn, in his woozy, buzzed state, reached out to try to grab Lisbon by the waist, and was surprised when her knee came up to clobber him in the testicles. Mashburn slumped to his knees as he brought his hands to his nuts, moaning in pain. Lisbon took a step back and casually tucked the microphone back in her jacket. She swore she could hear Wylie's chuckle on the other end.

"OUCH! Why did you do that, Teresa?" he said, his voice high and sing-song.

"Consider that payment rendered for causing me to ever doubt Patrick Jane. You changed, Walter. I've changed, too. I found a man who loves me and doesn't use his money to entice. He's a good man and I love him. I _never _loved you, Walter. You were only someone to _scratch my itch_." She turned away from him and talked to the door leading back inside. "I've been fragile for a long time, Walter. I've been put back together because Jane has changed. He'll never leave me. I recall you leaving for overseas and never coming back or calling. I sought _you _out when he went to Vegas. Even then, you were not on my mind when I was in your arms," she told him, turning back to stare at him as he got to his feet once again. "Jane was."

She walked across the hotel room and stepped out into the hall, closing the door behind her. She sighed to herself as she made it to the elevators. She remembered seeing Jane's face that morning during breakfast. She knew exactly who he suspected and what Jane was going to do. Jane was getting predictable in that sense. She had gotten dressed, made her way to work and had pulled Wylie aside. After assuring the poor, scared, young IT that she wasn't mad at him for helping Jane record her and Mashburn, she asked if he could trace a possible breach of Jane's secret account. Wylie, who had finally tracked down the account of Jane's, had traced the withdrawal to a fire-walled proxy. After Wylie cracked the firewall, he found out that the withdrawal on Jane's account came from a scrambler. Lisbon had asked if Wylie could unscramble it, and he said he could try. Lisbon had gone about her business; doing paperwork, working on the depositions she left last night... tediously boring work. Wylie had finally called her over and said that he had unscrambled the proxy server, and that it was coming from the Waldorf Hotel.

"_The Waldorf?" She had asked. "As in Mashburn's Waldorf?"_

"_Yeah," Wylie confirmed as he nodded his head. "Here's the thing, though. The server address comes back to a Philips. I ran his particulars, and he's ex-CIA."_

"_Mashburn hires only the best," Lisbon had told Wylie as she rolled her eyes. _

"_Should we go after him or...?" Wylie had asked._

"_No," Lisbon replied. "We need Mashburn. Philips being sought will attract attention. We'll cut that loss. We need Mashburn to confess what he did."_

"_How do you think we can do that?" Wylie had asked._

_Lisbon smiled. "You still have one of those microphone thingies?"_

Thinking back on it, Mashburn had set up his own demise. His intention to drive a wedge between Lisbon and Jane had actually backfired, and Lisbon was going to use that to her advantage. She had remembered the nights she had drank wine with Walter when Jane had disappeared. She knew exactly how to get his lips loose. For her part, she would pretend that Mashburn's plan had worked. It had, indeed, come to bite Walter Mashburn on his ass. The kick to the balls, though a defensive tactic, was also a message. But now she had a pissed-off and drunk Jane to deal with. She was being truthful when she said it wasn't an act, the bar incident. But leaving the Cooper's, Lisbon had resolved to fight fire with fuel. She wouldn't allow this to happen. Jane had exposed what the relationship between them was, but she wasn't angry about it. Contrary. She was relieved, she found. No more secrets. No more sneaking around. But his words that she had kept secrets from him were true. Whether the context of them was real, she still kept the fact she visited with Mashburn while he was away secret. She had been upset that he had done so with Erica Flynn, and here she was making a double standard. She just hoped he would forgive her for it, and that the hurt she felt toward his actions at the bar would subside.

For now, she had to make it to the offices. There was a murder to solve, first.

* * *

><p><strong><em>This chapter was supposed to be the final, but I had to split it up because I can't shut up LOL. Final chapter coming up.<em>**

**_This chapter brought to you by damnitjane_**

**_We don't own the Mentalist_**


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